Looking up, to his great surprise, he perceived two elderly gentlemen seated opposite each other at the card-table. The wax candles were lighted, and the two strange personages were playing at écarté, or some other game.
An unaccountable dread seized Chetwynd as he watched them, and he wondered how they came to be there at that time of night. Perhaps they might not be aware of his presence, so he thought he ought to apprise them of it.
Raising himself on the pillow to examine them more narrowly, he perceived that one of them was Sir Leycester Barfleur, and the other—his own father!
Astounded and dismayed at this discovery, he felt utterly unable to speak, and remained-gazing at them, while they continued their game.
At last, they threw down their cards, and got up.
Then Mr. Calverley, as it seemed, exclaimed, in an unearthly voice, “I've won!”
Upon which Sir Leycester, in accents equally unearthly, replied, “Not yet!”
Then they both looked towards the occupant of the bed, and the expression of their countenance was so fearful that Chetwynd was unable to endure it, and fell back insensible.
When he recovered—or, rather, when he awoke—he did not feel quite sure that the supernatural appearance which he thought he had witnessed might not have been a dream.
On examination, the candles did not appear to have been lighted, and both packs of cards were untouched. This seemed to favour the idea that it must have been a dream, but Chetwynd could not believe so. He felt sure he had seen the two old men.