It is a mistake to be following up the man. Can I not recall the Doctor
without this disturbing shape? I try hard, and the Doctor's face flits
by and vanishes before I can even tell its outline.
I forced the Doctor to appear and reappear; but he would remain an
instant only and be gone; instead of him, this strange man persisted,
and contrary to my will.
My heart misgave me. Had I been following a delusion? Was there no Dr.
Khayme, after all, and worse than that, no Lydia? Her face was again
before me. That look of care--or worse than care, anxiety--could it be
mere fancy? No; the face was the face of my fancy, but the look was its
own. I recognized the face, but the expression was not due to my thought
or to my error; it was independent of me.
I saw the Doctor and Lydia and Willis and the Man! Always the Man!
Lydia, even, could not lay the ghost of the strange Man who sometimes
wore blue and sometimes gray.
Night fell. I was posted as a vedette near the river. There was nothing
in my front. The stars came out and the moon. I thought of the moon at
Chancellorsville, and of the moon at Gettysburg, and of my Captain,
lying in a soldier's grave in the far-off land of the enemy. My brain
was not clear. I had a buzzing in my ears. I doubted all reality. My
fancy bounded from this to that. My nerves were all unstrung. I felt
upon the boundary edge of heaven and hell. I knew enough to craze me
should I learn no more. I watched the moon; it took the form of Lydia's
face; a tree became the strange Man who would not forsake me.
Who was the Man? He gave no clew to his identity. He was mysterious.
His acts were irregular. He must be imaginary only. The others are real.
I know the Doctor and his name. I know Lydia and her name. I know Willis
and his name. The Man's face and name are unknown; yet does he come
unbidden and uppermost and always.
I made an effort to begin at the end of my memory and go back. I
retraced our present march--then back to the Valley--then Falling
Waters--Hagerstown--Gettysburg--the march into
Pennsylvania--Chancellorsville--illness--the march to
Fredericksburg--Shepherdstown--Sharpsburg--Harper's
Ferry--Manassas--the SPOT, with a broken gun and with Willis--Ah! a new
thought, at which I stagger for an instant--then my wound at Gaines's
Mill--then Dr. Frost, and that is all.
But I have a new discovery: Willis was the injured man at second
Manassas.
But no; that could not be second Manassas--it was first Manassas.
Distinctly Willis was shot at first Manassas; the Man helped Willis. Why
should he help Willis?
Another and puzzling thought: How should I know Willis--a Yankee
soldier?