"Rest assured on that point, sir."
"But it was such a dreadful dream."
"So I grant you, sir."
"And happening just at the moment of old Batavsky's death!"
"As I said before, simply a coincidence."
"Oh, if I could only think so! Light the lamps."
"Yes, sir," and he at once proceeded to light a chandelier of oil-lamps.
The gloom of coming night had weighed upon him, but now that there was light in the room, he felt better, and more composed, but still ill at ease.
Finally he fell asleep, but it was long past midnight, and after he had gone through with all sorts of mental misery, and then Barnwell ventured to sleep himself.
But it was a wild sleep that came to him, for all that he had passed through during the day had so wrought up his feelings that it was next to impossible for him to sleep.