Before he could say a word, she whispered, with a look of horror: "Take me back--home, home again, Isaac.

Come with me, and never go back again." He was afraid to ask for an explanation; he could only sign to her to be silent, and help her quickly to the door.

As they passed the breadtray on the table she stopped and pointed to it.
"Did you see what your wife cut your bread with ?" she asked, in a low whisper.
"No, mother--I was not noticing--what was it ?" "Look!" He did look.

A new clasp-knife with a buckhorn handle lay with the loaf in the bread-tray.

He stretched out his hand shudderingly to possess himself of it; but, at the same time, there was a noise in the kitchen, and his mother caught at his arm.
"The knife of the dream! Isaac, I'm faint with fear.