"Why do you feel so confident on the point?" asked Juliana.
"Because I firmly believe he is in France," replied Dick. "At the very moment we are now talking of him, I am persuaded he is at the great palace of the Louvre, seated between his mother, Henrietta Maria, Queen of England, and his royal brother the Duke of York."
"Would to heaven it were true!" exclaimed Juliana.
"It must be true, for I have dreamed it thrice," said Dick.
"Is that all your authority?" cried Juliana, smiling.
"What better authority would you have, fair mistress?" he rejoined. "I'll tell you a singular thing. A rebel officer who fought at Worcester came to the George the day before yesterday, and said to me, 'I've had a remarkable dream, landlord, and it quite haunts me. I've dreamt that Charles Stuart is concealed in a house at Trent, in Somerset. I should know the house,' he continued, 'for it has a great patch of trees near it.'"
"That was very odd!" exclaimed Juliana.
"So I told him, and the idiot might have gone to Trent, if I had not recounted my thrice-repeated dream to him. When he had heard my relation he gave up all intention of searching for the king."
Everybody laughed, but the host maintained a grave face.