as i sat there in that now lonely room; the fire burning low, in that mild stage when, after its first intensity has warmed the air, it then only glows to be looked at; the evening shades and phantoms gathering round the casements, and peering in upon us silent, solitary twain; the storm booming without in solemn swells; i began to be sensible of strange feelings. i felt a melting in me. no more my splintered heart and maddened hand were turned against the wolfish world. this soothing savage had redeemed it. there he sat, his very indifference speaking a nature in which there lurked no civilized hypocrisies and bland deceits. wild he was; a very sight of sights to see; yet i began to feel myself mysteriously drawn towards him. and those same things that would have repelled most others, they were the very magnets that thus drew me. i’ll try a pagan friend, thought i, since christian kindness has proved but hollow courtesy. i drew my bench near him, and made some friendly signs and hints, doing my best to talk with him meanwhile. at first he little noticed these advances; but presently, upon my referring to his last night’s hospitalities, he made out to ask me whether we were again to be bedfellows. i told him yes; whereat i thought he looked pleased, perhaps a little complimented.