"Excuse me, sir," he said, "but—but——" and then he put his hand under the pillow and took out his watch. "It is half-past three, sir, it won't be long before daylight; and—and haven't you been to bed, sir?"
"Good-night, Simpson," I said, and then found my way into my little room. Five minutes later, I had got into bed, and blown out the lamp. I was still strangely awake, and was again living over my experiences of the night. I heard Simpson groping cautiously around the house, and I knew he was looking at the fastenings of windows and doors.
"I shall have a busy day to-morrow," I said to myself. "I must see that my little wireless apparatus is in good order. I must be careful, too, that I arouse no suspicion in placing it on the spot I have prepared." After this I began to arrange my plans concerning the work I had to do. Then, little by little, things became hazy and indistinct to me. "I am falling asleep," I said to myself. "This is wonderful; I never thought I should sleep to-night."
I seemed to be passing through one world into another, from the world of realities to the world of dreams, and yet the latter was as real to me as the former had been. I had a kind of consciousness that I was asleep, and yet the stuff of which my dreams were made was just as vivid as my experiences of that night.
I was far out at sea, but it was not such a sea as I had ever known. I felt the movement of the waters, and heard the roar of the machinery. But I could see nothing. A great weight seemed to weigh me down. I felt, too, as though I were moving amidst great sea-monsters, the like of which I had never imagined before. I had a difficulty in breathing; it seemed to me as though the air which passed through my lungs was artificial. I had the use of my senses, but those senses seemed to respond to new conditions. I heard, but my hearing was confused; I felt, but with a kind of numb consciousness. I heard sounds of voices, but the voices might have been hundreds of miles away. It was as though I were speaking to some one through a telephone, a long way off. I was in a kind of a room, but it was such a room as I had never seen before. It had neither shape nor dimension. Little by little, that which had been shadowy and unreal became more definite. I saw a table, with three men sitting beside it; in front of them was a chart.
"She will be there on Thursday," said one, placing his hand on a certain spot on the chart. "It's a long distance from here and we shall want more petrol."
"It will be easy for us to get it," said another; "we have everything in training. We must let him know."
As I said, the voices seemed to be hundreds of miles away, as though they were speaking through a long-distance telephone. Yet every word was plain.
I realized at that moment that they were speaking in German, and saw, too, that the men had German faces, and wore German clothes.
I was not in the least surprised or disturbed. It seemed to me as though it were all a part of a prearranged plan. The sense of wonder had altogether departed from me.