Then the dream began to change in such a manner as it would be
impossible to relate it; but throughout I remember the fiendish face of
Richard de Chevron. I was seized with an inexpressible horror, and could
bear it no longer; then I awoke." "My dear Claribel," said I, "pray do not disturb yourself for such a
ridiculous dream. You ought to know that all dreams are mad, the
offspring of impaired digestion or----"

But she impatiently cut me short by a wave of the hand, as if she were
determined to believe in the warning character of her dream, despite all
my sophistry. However, I attempted a second time to account for the dream by the
aversion she had taken to Richard de Chevron at first sight and her
constantly brooding over her unfounded impressions. I tried argument, I
tried ridicule; but finding her proof against either, I held my tongue
and took up a piece of work. Claribel had thrown herself into an arm-chair, and there sat listlessly,
without occupying herself or hardly exchanging a word with me. Once,
indeed, she gasped out to herself "Oh, that I could save him!" and then
relapsed into her usual silence. About five minutes after, chancing to look up, I observed that my friend
appeared to be more languid than ever. She was dreadfully pale, her lips
colourless and slightly parted, the eyes half-closed. I thought she was
in a swoon, and now somewhat alarmed, I rose and advanced towards her. "Claribel," I cried, "what ails you--are you unwell?" She waved me away with her hand, so imagining it was nothing more than a
little weakness, I withdrew myself and resumed my work. Soon afterwards
she appeared to rally, and sat up in her chair. Her colour had returned
somewhat, and her eye seemed brighter, but her voice was still weak as
she muttered, "I have seen him. Oh! why did you disturb me?" "Seen him!" I exclaimed. "Seen whom?" "John Archer," she replied. "Nonsense," said I; "you have been dreaming." "I tell you, Molly," she replied, rather pettishly, "I have seen him,
and would have warned him had you not disturbed me." "Silly child," said I; "you have been dreaming; but you looked so very
ill that I grew alarmed, for I thought you were in a swoon." Just then my father entered the room and commenced talking on household
matters, so our conversation dropped; nor did I give it a further
thought until the evening, when John Archer made his appearance, as he
frequently did, to take his tea with us. "Good evening, Mistress Claribel," said he. "You were in a mighty hurry
to quit my company this morning after paying me such an unexpected
visit. Methinks you are chary of your presence. It is a mystery to me
how you appeared and disappeared from me without my perceiving either
the coming or the going of you." "How say you, Master John?" said my father, pricking up his ears. "Do
you say that our Claribel paid you a visit this morning?" "Ay, sir," replied John; "at about nine o'clock this morning, as I was
walking along with my gun, on his lordship's estate, I suddenly saw
Mistress Claribel coming straight in front of me. She looked as if she
were about to speak to me, when all of a sudden--I'm sure I can't tell
how--she disappeared. I looked round about me, and called her, but there
was no one. "Then I began to be alarmed, thinking something must have happened to
Mistress Claribel, and that I had seen her ghost. I could not let the
day pass by without dropping in to call to see if she were all right." "You must be mistaken, John," said I. "I assure you that Claribel has
not left the house all day. She has felt rather unwell." "Not left the house!" exclaimed Archer. "Why I saw her quite plain this
morning." "You must have been dreaming," said my father. But I noticed that he gave a glance of peculiar meaning at my friend and
self. I knew what was passing in his mind. I, too, shared the same
apprehensions. John Archer must have re-encountered Claribel's second
self, her much dreaded double. I then recalled the words of Claribel
that morning. "_I have seen him. Oh, why did you disturb me?_"

My poor friend, I observed, was dreadfully confused as my father's eye
rested on her. The colour mounted to her cheeks, then vanished again,
leaving her deadly pale, and she seemed desirous to escape notice. Her
restlessness became extreme when John began persisting that he had not
been dreaming, that he could vouch for what he had seen, etc., etc. "You should get yourself bled, Master Archer," said my father; "you
can't be well." "I assure you I am in the very best of health," persisted John. "And I assure you, Master Archer, that Claribel has not quitted this
house to-day, to my certain knowledge," said my father. "What, not for a moment?" went on Archer, most annoyingly. "How say you,
Mistress Claribel, was it not you I saw this morning on Lord Edgedown's
estate as I was walking along with my gun over my shoulder?" Claribel grew red and pale by turns, and her lips began to move, as if
she felt herself forced to give some answer; but at that moment my
father seemed troubled with a violent fit of coughing which drowned her
reply. John waited quietly until the coughing was over, and then began
again. "Do you mean to say it was not you I saw this morning?" The coughing was resumed, and strange enough, always returned just as
John Archer began to open his mouth. John looked in wonderment, first
at Claribel, then at my father, then at Claribel again, and finally at
me. He had unwittingly touched upon a sore place. This he seemed to be
aware of; but how he had been to blame was a mystery to him. He suddenly changed the conversation, and began discoursing on
indifferent topics. The coughing ceased for that evening. As he rose to
go we followed him to the door, and I observed that Claribel, who was
the foremost, whispered something secretly into his ear at parting. I
myself was immediately behind her, and overheard the hurried words,
"John, you have an enemy. Beware!" Then she put her finger quickly to her lips, to prevent him giving any
outward expression to his wonderment, and the door closed upon our
guest. "You silly girl," said I to my friend as we were undressing that
evening, previous to retiring to rest. "What nonsense of you to try and
infect that young man with your own ungrounded fears. Do you think I did
not overhear what you said?" She looked a little downcast at this, but then instantly recovering, by
way of consoling herself, she ejaculated, "Nevertheless, I have warned
him," and she clasped her hands above her head enthusiastically. No further word was said about John Archer that night. On the following
morning I had occasion to call upon a neighbour who lived some four or
five miles off. I rose early, and started off on foot. As I was
returning home it came on to rain in such torrents that I was forced to
take shelter under a little shed that was annexed to a small hut
standing alone upon a hill, far from any other human dwelling.