"She is dead."
"Dead!--You don't mean it!--How do you know?"
"It was told me last night in a dream."
Among the rest of his little peculiarities, he was one of the most superstitious creatures breathing. In religion, I believe, he called himself a spiritualist. Anyhow, he was always seeing things, and hearing things, and having things revealed to him. Talking to him in some of his moods reminded one of that scene in Richard II. where the poor dear king wants to sit upon a gravestone and talk of epitaphs.
"Is that the only reason why you know that she is dead--because it was told you in a dream?"
"Do not mock at me. The voice which speaks to me in visions does not lie. I saw a coffin lying in an open grave, and 'Louise O'Donnel' was on the coffin-lid."
"You did not happen to see in which particular graveyard that grave might be located."
"I did not. But I know that she is dead. My daughter, oh, my daughter!"
I had to turn aside to smile. I grant that it was not a subject for laughter--but he was so funny!
"And as I looked the coffin-lid was lifted. And, on her breast, there was an open wound."