I was all aglow, and my eyes, no doubt, shone bright with excitement and the exhilaration of the wine.

The look of me, or the hour of the night, or the working of his own superstition, got hold of him, for he sprang up, crying madly: "My God, do you know ?" and glared into my face as though I had been the very devil of whom I spoke.
We stood thus for a full minute.

But I grew cool before my companion, wonder working the change in me sooner than confusion could in him.

For my random ravings had most marvellously struck on something more than my sober speculations could discern.

The man before me was mad--or he had a secret.