I was surprised to hear a queer sort of laugh, and saw Davidson standing unsteadily in the middle of the room, with a dazzled look on his face. My first impression was that he was drunk. He did not notice me. He was clawing out at something invisible a yard in front of his face. He put out his hand, slowly, rather hesitatingly, and then clutched nothing. 'What's come to it?' he said. He held up his hands to his face, fingers spread out. 'Great Scott!' he said. The thing happened three or four years ago, when every one swore by that personage. Then he began raising his feet clumsily, as though he had expected to find them glued to the floor.
'Davidson!' cried I. 'What's the matter with you?' He turned round in my direction and looked about for me. He looked over me and at me and on either side of me, without the slightest sign of seeing me. 'Waves,' he said; 'and a remarkably neat schooner. I'd swear that was Bellow's voice. Hallo!' He shouted suddenly at the top of his voice.
I thought he was up to some foolery. Then I sawlittered about his feet the shattered remains of the I of our electrometers. 'What's up, man? ' said I. 'You've smashed the electrometer!
'Bellows again!' said he. 'Friends left, if my hands are gone. Something about electrometers. Which way are you, Bellows?' He suddenly came staggering towards me. 'The damned stuff cuts like butter,' he said. He walked straight into the bench and recoiled. 'None so buttery that!' he said, and stood
I felt scared. 'Davidson,' said I, 'what on earth's come over you? '
He looked round him in every direction. 'I could sweat that was Bellows. Why don't you show yourself like a man, Bellows?'
It occurred to me that he must be suddenly struck
