A sort of cloud had settled on his wits and prevented him from remembering the strangeness of the hour.

He moved like a person in his sleep; and it seemed as if the lamp caught fire and the bottle came uncorked with the facility of thought.

Still, he had some curiosity about the appearance of his visitor, and tried in vain to turn the light into his face; either he handled the lamp clumsily, or there was a dimness over his eyes; but he could make out little more than a shadow at table with him.

He stared and stared at this shadow, as he wiped out the glasses, and began to feel cold and strange about the heart.

The silence weighed upon him, for he could hear nothing now, not even the river, but the drumming of his own arteries in his ears.
'Here's to you,' said the stranger, roughly.
'Here is my service, sir,' replied Will, sipping his wine, which somehow tasted oddly.
'I understand you are a very positive fellow,' pursued the stranger.
Will made answer with a smile of some satisfaction and a little nod.
'So am I,' continued the other; 'and it is the delight of my heart to tramp on people's corns.