CHAPTER XXI.
JIM STOCKBRIDGE BEGINS TO TAKE ANOTHER VIEW OF MATTERS.
He stood in the candle-light, smiling blandly, while we all stayed for an instant, after our first exclamation, speechless with astonishment.
The Major was the first who showed signs of consciousness, for I verily believe that one half of the company at least believed him to be a ghost.

"You are the man," said the Major, "who in the flesh called himself Maximilian Mulhaus! Why are you come to trouble us, O spirit ?--not that we shouldn't be glad to see you if you were alive, you know, but--my dear old friend, how are you ?" Then we crowded round him, all speaking at once and trying to shake hands with him.

Still he remained silent, and smiled.

I, looking into his eyes, saw that they were swimming, and divined why he would not trust himself to speak.

No one hated a show of emotion more than the Doctor, and yet his brave warm heart would often flood his eyes in spite of himself.
He walked round to the fire-place, and, leaning against the board that answered for a chimney-piece, stood looking at us with beaming eyes, while we anxiously waited for him to speak.
"Ah!" he said at length, with a deep sigh, "this does me good.