It was white and livid, with green grass for a background--and the roar he heard was no longer the distant yell of a panic-stricken mob, but boys' voices--voices shouting at himself! Yes, for the last time that vision rose before him.

Then with a mighty effort he shook off the dream and looked once more in the face of the boy who lay there on the floor of the Storr Alley garret.
And as he did so young Forrester slowly opened his eyes..