"Yes. And the temple was something like the one they used to call Vesta's, only it was more ornamented, and the columns seemed very near together. The round wall, just within the columns, was decorated with curious designs in low relief—something like a wheel, and scallops, and curved lines. It is hard to describe, but I can see it all now."
Guido rose from his seat quickly.
"I will get the number that has the drawing in it," he said, explaining.
During the few moments that passed while he was out of the room Lamberti sat staring at his empty place as fixedly as he had stared at the dark line of the Janiculum a few minutes earlier. The man-servant, who had been with him at sea, watched him with a sort of grave sympathy that is peculiarly Italian. Then, as if an idea of great value had struck him, he changed Lamberti's plate, poured some red wine into the tumbler, and filled it up with water. Then he retired and watched to see whether his old master would drink. But Lamberti did not move.
"Here it is," said Guido, entering the room with a large yellow-covered pamphlet open in his hands. "Was it like this?"
As he asked the question he laid the pamphlet on the clean plate before his friend. The pages were opened at Baldassare Peruzzi's rough pen-and-ink sketch of the temple of Vesta; and as Lamberti looked at it, his lids slowly contracted, and his features took an expression of mingled curiosity and interest.
"The man who drew that had seen what I saw," he said at last. "Did he draw it from some description?"
"He drew it on the spot," answered Guido. "The temple was standing then. But as for your dream, it is quite possible that you may have seen this same drawing in a shop window at Spithœver's or Lœscher's, for instance, without noticing it, and that the picture seemed quite new to you when you dreamt it. That is a simple explanation."
"Very," said Lamberti. "But I saw the whole Forum."
"There are big engravings of imaginary reconstructions of the Forum, in the booksellers' windows."