That night, for the first time in my life that I can remember, I dreamt of my father. Presumably, the excitement of the day had affected my nerves; but this dream was so vivid, that I can recall it even now: I seemed to be in a vast, ruined cathedral, walking round and round, seeking some means of egress; and, finding none, sat down on the bottom step of the stairway which led to the top of a frightfully high tower.
I felt unutterably despondent, for I knew that outside everything I wanted was awaiting me, and yet I could not name any one thing.
Then I saw some one near me, and I called to him to ask his assistance in escaping; he did not answer, but just pointed up the stairway. So I started to ascend; it was weary work, as the steps appeared never to end, and I toiled laboriously up, up, ever up. Once I despaired and started to descend, but there stood my father pointing and smiling, so I turned again and resumed my interrupted ascent. I was just about to relinquish it for good, when I woke.
It appears strange to me now, when thinking of it, that my father never said a word to explain, and that all my effort apparently led nowhere.
It was Bauen's entrance that had awakened me; and in a very short time I had dressed, breakfasted, and was once more ready for work.
I found Mr. Smith in the great study, where the evening before I had signed so many papers; as we were alone we chatted in a friendly way, for I don't think ceremony was to the liking of either of us.
"Well, Prince," I said, "the first thing I wish is for you to have the necessary papers made out confirming you in that title."
"It can wait, Victor."
"Not a day, I wish it done at once."
"Very well," he replied, laughing.