I dreamt I was lying asleep in the room I actually occupied, when I was
aroused from a profound slumber by the noise produced by some one
tapping at the window-pane. On rising to ascertain the cause of this
summons, I saw Colonel Morris standing outside and beckoning me to join
him. With that disregard of space, time, distance, and attire which
obtains in dreams, I at once stepped out into the garden. It was a
pitch-dark night, and bitterly cold, and I shivered, I know, as I heard
the sullen flow of the river, and listened to the moaning of the wind
among the trees.
We walked on for some minutes in silence, then my companion asked me if
I felt afraid, or if I would go on with him.
"I will go where you go," I answered.
Then suddenly he disappeared, and Playfire, who had been his counsel at
the time of the trial, took my hand and led me onwards.
We passed through a doorway, and, still in darkness, utter darkness,
began to descend some steps. We went down--down--hundreds of steps as it
seemed to me, and in my sleep, I still remembered the old idea of its
being unlucky to dream of going downstairs. But at length we came to the
bottom, and then began winding along interminable passages, now so
narrow only one could walk abreast, and again so low that we had to
stoop our heads in order to avoid striking the roof.
After we had been walking along these for hours, as time reckons in such
cases, we commenced ascending flight after flight of steep stone-steps.
I laboured after Playfire till my limbs ached and grew weary, till,
scarcely able to drag my feet from stair to stair, I entreated him to
stop; but he only laughed and held on his course the more rapidly, while
I, hurrying after, often stumbled and recovered myself, then stumbled
again and lay prone.
The night air blew cold and chill upon me as I crawled out into an
unaccustomed place and felt my way over heaps of uneven earth and
stones that obstructed my progress in every direction. I called out
for Playfire, but the wind alone answered me; I shouted for Colonel
Morris; I entreated some one to tell me where I was; and in answer
there was a dead and terrible silence. The wind died away; not a
breath of air disturbed the heavy stillness which had fallen so
suddenly around me. Instead of the veil of merciful blackness which
had hidden everything hitherto from view, a gray light spread slowly
over the objects around, revealing a burial-ground, with an old church
standing in the midst--a burial-ground where grew rank nettles and
coarse, tall grass; where brambles trailed over the graves, and weeds
and decay consorted with the dead.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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