During this description the amazement of the listeners had momently increased, and their exclamations of surprise were continual. Now they said, “Oh! those are the Shalcrosses—exactly—to a hair! How wonderful!” “But,” said Mr. Woodburn, “Dr. Leroy had heard, or read, in some newspaper of the affair.” George looked forward in the letter, and said, “No; he says, he had not at the writing of this heard a syllable of news, or received a single letter, though he hoped for letters at Calcutta, but they could not possibly convey any such news. For you forget this dream occurred on the night immediately succeeding the catastrophe at the ferry.” All sat in silent wonder. “Certainly,” said Mr. Woodburn, at length, “it is the most amazing dream that ever occurred;—but go on, George.” “As the ruffian approached the end of the hollow road, these two old people came out and confronted him. They pointed towards the ferry, as if telling him that they had seen all, and the man made violent gestures in return, clenching his fist and seeming to menace them. Then he took out his roll, gave them some part of it, and they then hasted along the river-side cart-track, and disappeared together in the wooded glen above on Mr. Woodburn’s estate. Whilst they were yet in sight, Mr. Drury’s horse galloped up the river-side and turned up the hollow road towards the village. In a few minutes more men appeared looking full of affright, went down to the ferry, and were evidently seeking Mr. Drury. “That was my dream. I trust that it is but a dream. I cannot persuade myself that any such horrible transaction has taken place: yet, shall I confess it? the distinctness as of life itself with which the whole of it was seen, and with which it remains, combined with my two former experiences of similar, though not so tragical a kind, makes me uneasy. Write to me, dear George, at the ship agents’, Calcutta, Messrs. Mac Campbell and Dimsdale; I shall get it, perhaps, as I come back, for Captain Andrews, of the Aurungzebe, is going to China with a cargo of opium, to reload there with tea for England, and has persuaded me to accompany him. He offers me great terms to accompany him home again, when he expects distinguished passengers, and as I have taken a great liking to him, perhaps I may,—who knows? Ah, if I had but one happy word from England, I would accept the invitation as the message of an angel. But England lies cold on my heart: and I have flattering prospects held out to me of a practice amongst the invalids in the Nilgherry Hills. Well, time must decide.” * * * * * “There are messages of friendship to you all,” said George, “and to others; the rest we can read another time, but the surprising nature of this dream makes my head swim.”