ore hold on my mind.
Something must happen or I shall lose my senses. I am breaking down
under it all, my body and my mind alike. Bring her to me; make God show
her to me. If all tales are true, it would not be the first time. If I
cannot have her, at least let me see her as she was, real, earthly, not
her spirit, her ghost. I want her real self, undefiled again. If this is
dementia, then let me be demented. But help me, you and your God; create
the delusion, do the miracle."

"Stop!" cried the priest again, shaking him roughly by the shoulder.
"Stop. Be yourself. This is dementia; but I shall NOT let you be
demented. Think of what you are saying. Bring her back to you! Is
that the way of God? I thought you were a man; this is the talk of a
weak-minded girl."

Vanamee stirred abruptly in his place, drawing a long breath and looking
about him vaguely, as if he came to himself.

"You are right," he muttered. "I hardly know what I am saying at times.
But there are moments when my whole mind and soul seem to rise up in
rebellion against what has happened; when it seems to me that I am
stronger than death, and that if I only knew how to use the strength
of my will, concentrate my power of thought--volition--that I could--I
don't know--not call her back--but--something----"

"A diseased and distorted mind is capable of hallucinations, if that is
what you mean," observed Sarria.

"Perhaps that is what I mean. Perhaps I want only the delusion, after
all."

Sarria did not reply, and there was a long silence. In the damp south
corners of the walls a frog began to croak at exact intervals. The
little fountain rippled monotonously, and a magnolia flower dropped from
one of the trees, falling straight as a plummet through the motionless
air, and settling upon the gravelled walk with a faint rustling sound.
Otherwise the stillness was profound.

A little later, the priest's cigar, long since out, slipped from his
fingers to the ground. He began to nod gently. Vanamee touched his arm.

"Asleep, sir?"

The other started, rubbing his eyes.

"Upon my word, I believe I was."

"Better go to bed, sir. I am not tired. I think I shall sit out here a
little longer."

"Well, perhaps I would be better off in bed. YOUR bed is always ready
for you here whenever you want to use it."

"No--I shall go back to Quien Sabe--later. Good-night, sir."

"Good-night, my boy."

Vanamee was left alone. For a long time he sat motionless in h