"'Describe this woman, Silvain, as she appears to you in your dreams.'
"'I cannot,' he said, after a momentary pause, 'describe her face except that I know it is beautiful, nor her form except that I know it is graceful. She has black hair, which tumbles in thick luxuriance over her shoulders below her waist, and upon her head is a scarlet covering, loosely tied, which flutters in the wind which is sweeping around her. Her figure is nearly always in this position, standing upright, with her left hand raised to her forehead, and her eyes looking eagerly forward.'
"'As though searching for some one, Silvain?'
"'Yes, as though searching for some one. For whom? For me? It is a question I seem to have asked of myself, I know not why. Her lips are parted, and I see her white teeth gleaming. The wild waves are dashing up to her feet, and surging all around her while the wind whistles and shrieks.'
"'A storm is raging,' I suggested.
"'An invisible storm, of which she appears utterly regardless.'
"'And I am there?'
"'And you are there,' said Silvain, 'and Kristel, and myself and this young girl, whose face I have never seen, but whose beauty spiritually impresses me, is always looking forward in the position I have described.'
"'Towards us?' I asked.
"'I cannot say,' he replied, 'but we seem to be moving in her direction.'