In this tragic dream, the terror and mystery of which even still haunts me, I could see nothing save the outlines of the trees dimly visible; and I followed the voice through the increasing gloom till at last the darkness complete and absolute ringed me round like an iron band, and I knew that the trees had ceased to be, and before me lay water.
A gasping and bubbling sound came from the invisible water, and I knew that it was the sound of a person drowning.
Drowning in the dark.
Then I awoke, and there were people in the room.
The room was lit by a nightlight dimly burning in a little dish. I, still possessed by the terror of the dream, lay very quiet. From the next room came the deep and stertorous breathing of my father. The people in my room, as though knowing him to be under the influence of drugs or wine, seemed quite oblivious of his presence so close to them. Baron Lichtenberg was standing by the foot of my bed; beside him stood the woman Gretel. They were gazing upon me and talking about me, and I was chill with terror.
Peeping under my lids, I could see them, but in the dim light they could not tell that I was awake as they gazed at me and talked in a half-whisper.
"It is horrible," said the man, "but it was prophesied. Look at him. Can you doubt?"
"Yes," said the woman; "it is he, as surely as she is Margaret."
"And you say he recognised her picture?"
"Surely," replied the woman, "by his face, which I watched narrowly."