By a sensitive mind I do
not mean an abnormal one, but such a trained and educated mind as you or
I possess.”

“You mean, for example, that if I slept beside that old sword upon the
wall, I might dream of some bloody incident in which that very sword
took part?”

“An excellent example, for, as a matter of fact, that sword was used in
that fashion by me, and I saw in my sleep the death of its owner, who
perished in a brisk skirmish, which I have been unable to identify, but
which occurred at the time of the wars of the Frondists. If you think of
it, some of our popular observances show that the fact has already been
recognized by our ancestors, although we, in our wisdom, have classed it
among superstitions.”

“For example?”

“Well, the placing of the bride’s cake beneath the pillow in order that
the sleeper may have pleasant dreams. That is one of several instances
which you will find set forth in a small _brochure_ which I am myself
writing upon the subject. But to come back to the point, I slept one
night with this funnel beside me, and I had a dream which certainly
throws a curious light upon its use and origin.”

“What did you dream?”

“I dreamed—” He paused, and an intent look of interest came over his
massive face. “By Jove, that’s well thought of,” said he. “This really
will be an exceedingly interesting experiment. You are yourself a
psychic subject—with nerves which respond readily to any impression.”

“I have never tested myself in that direction.”

“Then we shall test you to-night. Might I ask you as a very great
favour, when you occupy that couch to-night, to sleep with this old
funnel placed by the side of your pillow?”

The request seemed to me a grotesque one; but I have myself, in my
complex nature, a hunger after all which is bizarre and fantastic. I had
not the faintest belief in Dacre’s theory, nor any hopes for success in
such an experiment; yet it amused me that the experiment should be made. Dacre, with great gravity, drew a small stand to the head of my settee,
and placed the funnel upon it. Then, after a short conversation, he
wished me good-night and left me. *       *       *       *       *

I sat for some little time smoking by the smouldering fire, and turning
over in my mind the curious incident which had occurred, and the strange
experience which might lie before me. Sceptical as I was, there was
something impressive in the assurance of Dacre’s manner, and my
extraordinary surroundings, the huge room with the strange and often
sinister objects which were hung round it, struck solemnity into my
soul. Finally I undressed, and, turning out the lamp, I lay down. After
long tossing I fell asleep. Let me try to describe as accurately as I
can the scene which came to me in my dreams. It stands out now in my
memory more clearly than anything which I have seen with my waking eyes. There was a room which bore the appearance of a vault. Four spandrels
from the corners ran up to join a sharp cup-shaped roof. The
architecture was rough, but very strong. It was evidently part of a
great building. Three men in black, with curious top-heavy black velvet hats, sat in a
line upon a red-carpeted dais. Their faces were very solemn and sad. On
the left stood two long-gowned men with portfolios in their hands, which
seemed to be stuffed with papers. Upon the right, looking toward me, was
a small woman with blonde hair and singular light-blue eyes—the eyes of
a child. She was past her first youth, but could not yet be called
middle-aged. Her figure was inclined to stoutness, and her bearing was
proud and confident. Her face was pale, but serene. It was a curious
face, comely and yet feline, with a subtle suggestion of cruelty about
the straight, strong little mouth and chubby jaw. She was draped in some
sort of loose white gown. Beside her stood a thin, eager priest, who
whispered in her ear, and continually raised a crucifix before her eyes. She turned her head and looked fixedly past the crucifix at the three
men in black, who were, I felt, her judges. As I gazed the three men stood up and said something, but I could
distinguish no words, though I was aware that it was the central one who
was speaking. They then swept out of the room, followed by the two men
with the papers. At the same instant several rough-looking fellows in
stout jerkins came bustling in and removed first the red carpet, and
then the boards which formed the dais, so as to entirely clear the room. When this screen was removed I saw some singular articles of furniture
behind it. One looked like a bed with wooden rollers at each end, and a
winch handle to regulate its length. Another was a wooden horse. There
were several other curious objects, and a number of swinging cords which
played over pulleys. It was not unlike a modern gymnasium. When the room had been cleared there appeared a new figure upon the
scene. This was a tall thin person clad in black, with a gaunt and
austere face. The aspect of the man made me shudder. His clothes were
all shining with grease and mottled with stains. He bore himself with a
slow and impressive dignity, as if he took command of all things from
the instant of his entrance. In spite of his rude appearance and sordid
dress, it was now _his_ business, _his_ room, his to command. He carried
a coil of light ropes over his left fore-arm. The lady looked him up and
down with a searching glance, but her expression was unchanged. It was
confident—even defiant. But it was very different with the priest. His
face was ghastly white, and I saw the moisture glisten and run on his
high, sloping forehead. He threw up his hands in prayer, and he stooped
continually to mutter frantic words in the lady’s ear. The man in black now advanced, and taking one of the cords from his left
arm, he bound the woman’s hands together. She held them meekly toward
him as he did so. Then he took her arm with a rough grip and led her
toward the wooden horse, which was little higher than her waist. On to
this she was lifted and laid, with her back upon it, and her face to the
ceiling, while the priest, quivering with horror, had rushed out of the
room. The woman’s lips were moving rapidly, and though I could hear
nothing, I knew that she was praying. Her feet hung down on either side
of the horse, and I saw that the rough varlets in attendance had
fastened cords to her ankles and secured the other ends to iron rings in
the stone floor. My heart sank within me as I saw these ominous preparations, and yet I
was held by the fascination of horror, and I could not take my eyes from
the strange spectacle. A man had entered the room with a bucket of water
in either hand. Another followed with a third bucket. They were laid
beside the wooden horse. The second man had a wooden dipper—a bowl with
a straight handle—in his other hand. This he gave to the man in black.