But to-night the illusions were real.

Koenigsmarck was with him.

Koenigsmarck was by some mysterious alchemy becoming incorporate with him.

The voice which spoke and warned and menaced was as much his as Koenigsmarck's.
The old Count opened the door and heard Wogan muttering to himself as he crouched over the fire.

The Count carried a basin of water in his hand and a sponge and some linen.