Why should Jones be alive?  The only answer I could then make was, that I felt sure of the fact.  I had no reason to advance to myself for this knowledge, or feeling.  I felt that it was more than intuition.  I felt that it was experience, not the experience of sight or hearing or any of the senses, but experience nevertheless—­subconscious, if you wish to call it so in these days.  Though the experience was inexplicable, it was none the less valid.  I wondered at myself for thinking this, yet I did not doubt.  There are many avenues to the soul.  To know that a man is alive, seeing him walk is not essential, nor hearing him speak, nor touching his beating pulse; he may be motionless and dumb, yet will he have the life of expression and intelligence in his face.  Communication between mind and mind does not depend on nearness or direction.  But I saw no face.  Intelligence resides not in feature; the change of feature is but one of its myriad effects.  The mind of the world affects every individual mind ... where did I hear such an idea advanced?  From whom?  Dr. Khayme, beyond a doubt.

I was sure of it.  And then opened before me a page, and many pages, of the past, in which I read the Doctor’s philosophy.

I remembered his opinions ... he was a disbeliever in war ... why, then, was he in the army?

Perhaps he was not in the army.  Yet was he not doing service as a surgeon?  Was he not attending to Jones, sick in a tent?  But the tent itself did not prove the existence of an army.  The Doctor wore no uniform.

But a tent is strong presumption of an army.  Was the Doctor a surgeon?  And the ambulance ... the tent coupled with the ambulance made the army almost certain.  And Jones and Willis, both soldiers, assisted by the Doctor ... yes, the Doctor must be an army surgeon, although he wears no uniform.  Perhaps he wears uniform only on occasions; when at work at his calling he puts it off.

I have gained a position, from which I must examine everything anew—­in a new light.

I consider the Doctor a surgeon in the army.  Why has he not found me?  Again comes that thought of double personality, and this time it will not down so easily.  I can remember the Doctor’s utterances upon the universal mind, and upon the power of the will.  I can remember that I had almost feared him ... and suddenly I remember that Willis had said that the Doctor could read the mind ...  WHAT!  WHO?  I?  JONES?

My brain reeled.  I was faint and dizzy.  If the order to march had come, I could not have moved.

What was this new and strange knowledge?  How had it come?  I had simply remembered that Willis had told Jones that the Doctor could tell what another man was thinking, and I had known that Willis had spoken the words to ME!

Then I was Jones.  No wonder I could not get rid of him, for he had my mind in his body.  One mind in two bodies?  How could that be?  But I remember that the Captain warned me against attributing to mind extension or divisibility or any property of matter.  I am a double—­perhaps more.  Who knows but that the relation of mind with mind is the relation of unity?  It must be so.  I can see that I am Jones.  No wonder that I felt tired when he was weary; no wonder that I knew he wore gray in the night; no wonder that I knew he was not dead.