He clapped his other hand upon my shoulder. “Wake, man!” he commanded. “If thou shouldst go mad now — Wake! thy brain is turning. Hold to thyself. Stand fast, as thou art soldier and Christian! Ralph, she is not dead. She will wear flowers, — thy flowers, — sing, laugh, move through the sunshine of earth for many and many a year, please God! Art listening, Ralph? Canst hear what I am saying?”

“I hear,” I said at last, “but I do not well understand.”

He pushed me back against a pine, and held me there with his hands upon my shoulders. “Listen,” he said, speaking rapidly and keeping his eyes upon mine. “All those days that you were gone, when all the world declared you dead, she believed you living.