"Oh, yes, that bad dream you are subject to. Well, I am at your service now."
Awdrey rose slowly. He pointed with one of his hands.
"Do you see that?" he said suddenly.
Rumsey following the direction of his eyes perceived that he was staring into the part of the room which was in deepest shadow.
"I see nothing, Awdrey," he replied in a kind and soothing voice, "but I perceive by your manner that you do. What is it?"
"I wonder you cannot see it," replied Awdrey; "it is plain, too plain—it seems to fill all that part of the room."
"The old thing?" asked the doctor.
"Yes, the old thing but with a certain difference. There is the immense globe of light and the picture in the middle."
"The old picture, Awdrey?"
"Yes, yes, but with a difference. The two men are fighting. As a rule they stand motionless in the picture, but to-night they seem to have come alive—they struggle, they struggle hard; one stands with his back to me. The face of the other I can recognize distinctly. It is the face of that young fellow who stayed a few years ago at the inn in our village. Ah! yes, of course, I know his name, Frere—Horace Frere. He has met some one on Salisbury Plain. It is night; the moon is hidden behind clouds. Ha! now it comes out. Now I can see them distinctly. Dr. Rumsey, don't you hear the blows? I do. They seem to beat on my brain. That man who stands with his back to us carries my stick in his hand. I know it is mine, for the whole thing is so intensely plain that I can even see the silver tablet on which my name is engraved. My God! the man also wears my clothes. I would give all that I possess to see his face. Let us get on the Plain as fast as we can. I may be able to see the reverse side of the picture from there. Come with me, come at once."