It was a stifling night in August. I could not sleep. Despair filled my heart. I was blind, blind, blind! I should be blind for ever! So entirely had I lost heart that I began to think I would not have performed at all the operation which the doctors said might give me back the use of my eyes. Presently a sudden, fierce longing to be out of doors came over me. It was night, very few people would be about. Old Priscilla slept soundly. I rose from my bed, and, dressing myself with difficulty, crept, cautious as a thief, to the street door. The street, a quiet one, was deserted. For a time I walked backwards and forwards up the street. The exercise filled me with a peculiar elation. By carefully counting my footsteps, I gauged accurately the position of my house. At last, I decided to return, and opening the door, I entered and climbed the stairs. The atmosphere of the place struck me as strange and unfamiliar. I felt for a bracket which should have been upon the wall, that I had often been warned to avoid knocking with my head. It was not there. I had entered the wrong house. As I turned to grope my way back, I heard the murmur of voices. I made my way in the direction of these sounds to seek for assistance. Suddenly, there fell upon my ears the notes of a piano and a woman's voice singing. Music with me was an absorbing passion. I listened enthralled, placing my ear close to the door from behind which the sound proceeded. It was a song that few amateurs would dare to attempt, and I waited eagerly to hear how the beautiful voice would render the finale. But I never heard that last movement. Instead of the soft, sweet, liquid notes of passionate love, there was a spasmodic, fearful gasp succeeded by a long, deep groan. The music stopped abruptly, and the piercing cry of a woman rang out. I threw open the door and rushed headlong into the room. I heard an oath, an exclamation of surprise, and the muffled cry of the woman. I turned in the direction of that faint cry. My foot caught in something, and I fell prostrate on the body of a man. Before I could rise a strong hand gripped my throat and I heard the sharp click of a pistol lock. "Spare me!" I cried. "I am blind, blind, blind!" I lay perfectly still, crying out these words again and again. A strong light was turned on my eyes. There was no sound in the room save the muffled cry of the woman. The hands at my throat were released, and I was ordered to stand up. Some elementary tests of my blindness were tried, and I was told to give an account of my presence in the house. My story seemed to satisfy the man who questioned me. I was bidden to sit in a chair. I could hear the sound of men carrying a heavy burden out of the room. Then the woman's moans ceased. A voice at my side bade me drink something out of a glass, enforcing the demand with a pistol at my temple. A heavy drowsiness came over me, and I sank into unconsciousness.