Maitland was obliged to use considerable strength to force the
window down, as it stuck in the casing, and when it finally gave
way it closed with a loud shrieking sound ending in the bang of
the counterweights. At the noise Darrow sprang to his feet,
exclaiming: "Again! The same sound! I knew I could not mistake
it!" but by this time Gwen was at his side, pressing him gently back
into his seat, as she said to him in an undertone audible to all of
us: "What is it, father?" The old gentleman only pressed her
closer by way of reply, while he said to us apologetically: "You
must excuse me, gentlemen. I have a certain dream which haunts
me,--the dream of someone striking me out of the darkness. Last
night I had the same dream for the seventh time and awoke to hear
that window opened. There is no mistaking the sound I heard just
now; it is identical with that I heard last night. I sprang out
of bed, took a light, and rushed down here, for I am not afraid
to meet anything I can see, but the window was closed and locked,
as I had left it! What do you think, Doctor," he said, turning to
me, "are dreams ever prophetic?"

"I have never," I replied, anxious to quiet him, "had any
personal experience justifying such a conclusion." I did not tell
him of certain things which had happened to friends of mine, and
so my reply reassured him.

Maitland, who had been startled by the old gentleman's conduct,
now returned to the window and opened it about six inches. There
was no other window open in the room, and yet so fresh was the air
that we were not uncomfortable. Darrow, with ill-concealed pride,
then asked his daughter to sing, and she left him and went to the
piano. "Shall I not light the lamp?" I asked. "I think we shall