"Were you interrupted in your sleep last night, Galbraith? Did you hear noises in our room?" "Nothing, Major, louder nor the gnawing of a mouse at the foot of the plank partition. Did you see a spirit that you look so solemn?" "I did, sergeant!" said Butler, with great earnestness of manner. "I had a dream that had something more than natural in it." "You amaze me, Major! If you saw anything, why didn't you awake me?" "I hadn't time before it was gone, and then it was too late. I dreamed, Galbraith, that somehow--for my dream didn't explain how she came in--Mary Musgrove, the young girl we saw----" "Ha! ha! ha! Major, that young girl's oversot you! Was that the sperit?" "Peace, Galbraith, I am in earnest; listen to me. I dreamt Mary Musgrove came into our room and warned us that our lives were in danger; how, I forget, or perhaps she did not tell, but she spoke of our being waylaid, and, I think, she advised that at this very fork of the road we have just passed, we should take the left hand--the right, according to my dream, she said, led to some spring." "Perhaps the Dogwood, Major," said Robinson, laughing; "there is such a place, somewhere in these parts." "The Dogwood! by my life," exclaimed Butler; "she called it the Dogwood spring." "That's very strange," said Robinson gravely; "that's very strange, unless you have hearn some one talk about the spring before you went to bed last night. For, as sure as you are a gentleman, there is such a spring not far off, although I don't know exactly where." "And what perplexes me," continued Butler, "is that, this morning, almost in the very words of my dream, Mary Musgrove cautioned me, in a whisper, to take the left road at the fork. How is she connected with my dream? Or could it have been a reality, and was it the girl herself who spoke? I have no recollection of such a word from her before I retired to bed." "I have hearn of these sort of things before, major, and never could make them out. For my share, I believe in dreams. There is something wrong here," continued the sergeant, after pondering over the matter for a few moments, and shaking his head, "there is something wrong here, Major Butler, as sure as you are born. I wasn't idle in making my own observations: first, I didn't like the crossness of Wat's wife last night; then, the granny there, she raved more like an old witch, with something wicked in her that wouldn't let her be still, than like your decent old bodies when they get childish. What did she mean by her palaver about golden guineas in Wat's pocket, and the English officer? Such notions don't come naturally into the head, without something to go upon. And, moreover, when I turned out this morning, before it was cleverly day, who do you think I saw?" "Indeed I cannot guess."