tness of touch, so that I hardly felt it,
passed his finger-tips over my coat and waistcoat, lingered for a
moment over my watch-chain, then over my tie and collar, and then very
gently over my face and hair; it did not last half a minute, and there
was something curiously magnetic in the touch of the slim firm fingers.
"Now I see him," he wrote; "please thank him." "It will please him,"
said the Vicar, "if we ask him to describe you." In a moment, after a
few touches of his wife's hand, he smiled, and wrote down a really
remarkably accurate picture of my appearance. We then asked him a few
questions about himself. "Very well and very happy," he wrote, "full
of the love of God;" and then added, "You will perhaps think that I get
tired of doing nothing, but the time is too short for all I want to
do." "It is quite true," said his wife, smiling as she read it. "He
is as pleased as a child with everything, and every one is so good to
him." Presently she asked him to read aloud to us; and in a voice of
great distinctness, he read a few verses of the Book of Job from a big
volume. The voice was high and resonant, but varied strangely in
pitch. He asked at the end whether we had heard every word, and being
told that we had, smiled very sweetly and frankly, like a boy who has
performed a task well. The Vicar suggested that he should come for a
turn with us, at which he visibly brightened, and said he would like to
walk through the village. He took our arms, walking between us; and
with a delicate courtesy, knowing that we could not communicate with
him, talked himself, very quietly and simply, almost all the way,
partly of what he was convinced we were passing,--guessing, I imagine,
mainly by a sense of smell, and interpreting it all with astonishing
accuracy, though I confess I was often unable even to detect the scents
which guided him. We walked thus for half an hour, listening to his
quiet talk. Two or three people came up to us. Each time the Vicar
checked him, and he held out his hand to be shaken; in each case he
recognised the person by the mere touch of the hand. "Mrs Purvis,
isn't it? Well, you see me in very good company this morning, don't
you? It is so kind of the Vicar and his friend to take me out, and it
is pleasant to meet friends in the village." He seemed to know all
about the affairs of the place, and made enquiries after various people.

It was a very strange experience to walk thus with a