But most often it was a man--a young Englishman, who pursued a young Indian along that road into the mists.

Somehow, perhaps because it was inexplicable, perhaps because its details were so clear, this dream terrified her more than all the rest.

She could tell the very dress of the Indian who fled--a young man--young as his pursuer.

A thick sheepskin coat swung aside as he ran and gave her a glimpse of gay silk; soft leather boots protected his feet; and upon his face there was a look of fury and wild fear.

She never woke from this dream but her heart was beating wildly.