But his repose was not so full and tranquil as before. His former slumbers had been profound, forming one of those dreamless, feelingless, lapses of existence, which seem given us to show how the soul, even while dwelling in the body, can pause with all her powers suspended, unconscious of her own being, till called again into activity by some extraneous cause. The sleep which succeeded, however, was very different: dreams came thick and fast; some of them were confused and wild, and indistinct, but some were of that class of visions in which all the objects are as clear and definite as during our waking moments,--in which our thoughts are as active, our mind is as much at work, our passions are as vehemently excited, as in the strife and turmoil of living aspiration and endeavour--dreams which seem given to show us how intensely the soul can act, and feel, and live, while the corporeal faculties, which are her earthly servants, are as dead and useless as if the grave's corruption had resolved them into nothing. At one moment it seemed that he was in the battle-field, amidst the shout and the cry, and the clang of arms, and the rush of charging squadrons; and then he was in the flight of the defeated army, and he knew all the bitter indignation of reverse, and all the burning thirst to retrieve the day, and he felt all the vain effort to rally the flying, and the hopeless and daring effort to repel the victor; and then again, when all was lost, and not the faint shadow of a despairing hope remained, he was hurrying his rapid course across some dark and midnight moor; and, while he spurred on his own weary horse, he held in his hand the bridle rein of another, who bore one for whom he felt a thousand fears which he knew not for himself; and ever and anon, as he turned to look, the soft sweet eyes of Eugenie de Menancourt would gaze upon him with imploring earnestness. Then, suddenly, the figure changed, the rein dropped from his hand, and, armed all in steel, with lance couched and visor up, as if galloping to attack him, appeared his cousin, Philip d'Aubin; and, with a feeling of horror and a sudden start, St. Real woke.