“I will ask Miss Cameron to see ye.”

“Thank you,” was all Falconer’s reply; but the tone was more than speech.

After a little while, they were shown up to Euphra’s room.  She had wanted to sit up, but Margaret would not let her; so she was lying on her couch.  When Falconer was presented to her, he took her hand, and held it for a moment.  A kind of indescribable beam broke over his face, as if his spirit smiled and the smile shone through without moving one of his features as it passed.  The tears stood in his eyes.  To understand all this look, one would need to know his history as I do.  He laid her hand gently on her bosom, and said:  “God bless you!”

Euphra felt that God did bless her in the very words.  She had been looking at Falconer all the time.  It was only fifteen seconds or so; but the outcome of a life was crowded into Falconer’s side of it; and the confidence of Euphra rose to meet the faithfulness of a man of God. —­ What words those are! —­ A man of God!  Have I not written a revelation?  Yes —­ to him who can read it —­ yes.

“I know enough of your story, Miss Cameron,” he said, “to understand without any preface what you choose to tell me.”

Euphra began at once: 

“I dreamed last night that I found myself outside the street door.  I did not know where I was going; but my feet seemed to know.  They carried me, round two or three corners, into a wide, long street, which I think was Oxford-street.  They carried me on into London, far beyond any quarter I knew.  All I can tell further is, that I turned to the left beside a church, on the steeple of which stood what I took for a wandering ghost just lighted there; —­ only I ought to tell you, that frequently in my dreams —­ always in my peculiar dreams —­ the more material and solid and ordinary things are, the more thin and ghostly they appear to me.  Then I went on and on, turning left and right too many times for me to remember, till at last I came to a little, old-fashioned court, with two or three trees in it.  I had to go up a few steps to enter it.  I was not afraid, because I knew I was dreaming, and that my body was not there.  It is a great relief to feel that sometimes; for it is often very much in the way.  I opened a door, upon which the moon shone very bright, and walked up two flights of stairs into a back room.  And there I found him, doing something at a table by candlelight.  He had a sheet of paper before him; but what he was doing with it, I could not see.  I tried hard; but it was of no use.  The dream suddenly faded, and I awoke, and found Margaret. —­ Then I knew I was safe,” she added, with a loving glance at her maid.

Falconer rose.

“I know the place you mean perfectly,” he said.  “It is too peculiar to be mistaken.  Last night, let me see, how did the moon shine? —­ Yes.  I shall be able to tell the very door, I think, or almost.”

“How kind of you not to laugh at me!”