five A.M., and full dawn. As so
often happens, even after the most sleepless night, I dozed off then,
and slept for more than an hour, and during my sleep I dreamed--and this
was my dream. It must first be noted that the wide staircase I have
described as passing close to my room was thence continued upward to the
next floor. In my dream or vision I saw distinctly a woman in a white
nightgown, with dark hair streaming down her back, rushing up this
second flight of stairs in the most distraught and reckless fashion. In
one hand she held a knife, and was trying to stab herself with it, as a
musjig--in crimson coat--rushed after her, and endeavoured to wrench it
out of her hand. Two or three other people ran up the stairs behind her,
but only this peasant seemed to have the courage or presence of mind to
grapple with her. In a few moments, as it seemed to me, the vision, so
startling and clear cut, faded away, and I sank into a dreamless sleep,
I suppose, for it was past six A.M. when I woke finally.

When the German waiter appeared with my breakfast I said rather curtly
to him: "You need not have troubled to make up that foolish story last
night; I know what happened--_I have seen it_."

He looked very incredulous, so I went on: "The lady was trying to kill
herself, and rushed up to the next floor with a knife in her hand. I saw
the musjig run after her and force it from her."

The man was absolutely speechless. He said not one syllable, either of
corroboration or denial, but left the room as quickly as possible,
looking scared, and certainly left the impression upon my mind that my
vision represented what had actually taken place an hour or two
previously.

To my great surprise, however, our respectable and dependable courier,
Kuentze, gave quite a different version of the affair.

He came as usual to my room to take his orders for the day--Miss
Greenlow being present--and at once referred to the terrible tragedy.

"Ah, poor lady! you remember my telling you about her the other day, and
how her manager had run away with all that money? Now _this_ frightful
misfortune has happened to her, and no one knows if she will survive it.
She is still alive, however, and is to be taken to the hospital at one
P.M."

"But what has happened, Kuentze?" I said impatiently, rather irritated,
if the truth must be told, by his mysterious allusions and Miss
Greenlow's assumption of profound indifference. Of course, no
self-respect