"Myra has been dreaming again, sir," said Robert Cairn slowly. The doctor, serviette in hand, glanced up with an inquiry in his grey eyes. "We must not overlook any possible weapon," he replied. "Give us particulars of your dream, Myra." As Marston entered silently with the morning fare, and, having placed the dishes upon the table, as silently withdrew, Myra began: "I seemed to stand again in the barn-like building which I have described to you before. Through the rafters of the roof I could see the cracks in the tiling, and the moonlight shone through, forming light and irregular patches upon the floor. A sort of door, like that of a stable, with a heavy bar across, was dimly perceptible at the further end of the place. The only furniture was a large deal table and a wooden chair of a very common kind. Upon the table, stood a lamp--" "What kind of lamp?" jerked Dr. Cairn. "A silver lamp"--she hesitated, looking from Robert to his father--"one that I have seen in--Antony's rooms. Its shaded light shone upon a closed iron box. I immediately recognised this box. You know that I described to you a dream which--terrified me on the previous night?" Dr. Cairn nodded, frowning darkly. "Repeat your account of the former dream," he said. "I regard it as important." "In my former dream," the girl resumed--and her voice had an odd, far-away quality--"the scene was the same, except that the light of the lamp was shining down upon the leaves of an open book--a very, very old book, written in strange characters. These characters appeared to dance before my eyes--almost as though they lived." She shuddered slightly; then: "The same iron box, but open, stood upon the table, and a number of other, smaller, boxes, around it. Each of these boxes was of a different material. Some were wooden; one, I think, was of ivory; one was of silver--and one, of some dull metal, which might have been gold. In the chair, by the table, Antony was sitting. His eyes were fixed upon me, with such a strange expression that I awoke, trembling frightfully--" Dr. Cairn nodded again. "And last night?" he prompted. "Last night," continued Myra, with a note of trouble in her sweet voice--"at four points around this table, stood four smaller lamps and upon the floor were rows of characters apparently traced in luminous paint. They flickered up and then grew dim, then flickered up again, in a sort of phosphorescent way. They extended from lamp to lamp, so as entirely to surround the table and the chair. "In the chair Antony Ferrara was sitting. He held a wand in his right hand--a wand with several copper rings about it; his left hand rested upon the iron box. In my dream, although I could see this all very clearly, I seemed to see it from a distance; yet, at the same time, I stood apparently close by the tables--I cannot explain. But I could hear nothing; only by the movements of his lips, could I tell that he was speaking--or chanting."