And then what a dream I'd had: and it couldn't have lasted above three--certainly not five--minutes! What a dream! Such a confusion of things! I thought I still grasped the key, and it turned in my hand to a pistol! And then I thought I dropt it on the ground, and it went hopping along like a grasshopper, popping and going off as it went. Then I thought I was resolved FRED should not get up and go out--and then I suddenly found myself tying the sleeves of his shirt in double-knots, and then emptying the water-jug into both his boots! Then I thought I went through a churchyard, and saw that odious TRUEPENNY--drest like a pantomime clown--digging a grave; and as he dug it, singing a song about spades being trumps. Then I thought FRED was suddenly by my side, and that dreadful TRUEPENNY took up a shovelful of earth, and was about to throw it, with a laugh, in the face of FRED, when I--I tried to scream, or _did_ scream, and awoke! Oh! how I did wish we were well at home! And how I did lie--lie upon thorns and listen for him to go well to sleep, that I might creep out and learn everything of JOSEPHINE. And how I blamed myself that, before I came to bed, I didn't go and hear all she had to say!--But then I was in such a hurry to have FRED all safe, and the key in my own possession--safe under my pillow--and I thought he would so soon go to sleep, and he hadn't! Which made it plain to me that he had something on his mind: and that something--oh, how I did abominate that MR. TRUEPENNY. No; I thought to myself--as I lay awake, waiting for FRED to go off, that is, if he was going to sleep at all--no: MR. TRUEPENNY: you never enter my house. You never cross the threshold of the Flitch. A pretty friend indeed to take a man out--and that man newly married--to be shot like a sheep; and to leave a lonely, unprotected, broken-hearted-- The bitter thought was too much for me, I wept in good earnest; but cried so quietly--I was almost choked--for fear FRED, for he was _not_ asleep, should hear me! Oh, and again and again I thought, if ever we _do_ get home! What a home I'll make it! And still--and I was sure of it--still he was awake. And then I thought, suppose he should not go to sleep at all. Suppose he should get up and--well, no matter; I was resolved: I'd get up with him. I'd go with him. I'd cling to him. I'd never leave him. I'd call assistance, constables-- And now it was broad daylight, and--yes, surely, he _was_ asleep? I listened; and I couldn't be mistaken: no, I was sure he slept. And then I rose gently--very, very gently to look, and--yes,--he was in a deep sleep. His face--that beautiful face--was white, white and hushed and still as marble! Oh, how much I seemed to learn--how much more to live in that minute--looking, looking--and he--all the time as if there was some dreadful story under that deep stillness!