“In three quick steps it was beside me. I say it, for the figure resembled that of a ghost, or some horrible thing. From the eyes two flames seemed to dart, the lips opened, and I heard, in a low mutter:—
“‘Ah! he is going to recover, then!’
“As the words left the phantom’s lips, it reached my cot at a bound; something gleamed aloft, and I started back only in time to avoid the sharp point of a poniard, which grazed my head and nearly buried itself in the pillow on which I lay.
“Well, I started up and endeavored to seize my assailant; but she suddenly broke away from me, still clutching her weapon. Her clothing was torn from her person—she recoiled toward the door—and I leaped from my couch to rush after and arrest her. I had not the strength to do so, however. I had scarcely taken three steps when I began to stagger.
“‘Murderess!’ I exclaimed, extending my arms to arrest her flight.
“It was useless. A few feet further I reeled—my head seemed turning round—and again shouting ‘Murderess!’ I fell at full length on the floor, at the moment when the woman disappeared.
“That was curious, was it not? It would have been a tragical dream—it was more tragical in being no dream at all, but a reality. What had taken place was simple, and easy to understand. That woman had come thither, on this stormy night, to murder me; and she had very nearly succeeded. Had she found me asleep, I should never have waked. Fortunately, I was awake. Some noise frightened her, and she disappeared. A moment afterward one of the nurses came, and finally the surgeon.
“When I told him what had taken place, he laughed.
“‘Well, colonel, go back to bed,’ he said, ‘such dreams retard your recovery more than every thing else.’
“I obeyed, without taking the trouble to contradict him. My breast was bleeding again, and I did not get over the excitement for some days. The phantom did not return. I slowly recovered, and was taken in due time to Fort Delaware—the rest you know.