ch were more or less chipped at the edges. The glasses
and decanters were of that heavy cut glass, ornamented with gold lines,
which used to be made in Venice in the eighteenth century. Some of them
were chipped, too, like the plates. It had never occurred to Guido to
put the whole service away as a somewhat valuable collection, though he
sometimes thought that it was growing shabby. But he liked the old
things which had come to him from the ex-king, part of the furniture of
a small shooting box that had been left to him, and which he had sold to
an Austrian Archduke.

Lamberti took a little soup and swallowed half a glass of white wine.

"I had an odd dream last night," he said, "and I have had a little
adventure to-day. I will tell you by-and-by."

"Just as you like," Guido answered. "I hope the adventure was not an
accident--you look as if you had been badly shaken."

"Yes. I did not know that I could be so nervous. You see, I do not often
dream. I generally go to sleep when I lay my head upon the pillow and
wake when I have slept seven hours. At sea, I always have to be called
when it is my watch. Yes, I have solid nerves. But last night----"

He stopped, as the man entered, bringing a dish.

"Well?" enquired Guido, who did not suppose that Lamberti could have any
reason for not telling his dream in the presence of the servant.

Lamberti hesitated a moment, and helped himself before he answered.

"Do you believe in dreams?" he asked.

"What do you mean? Do I believe that dreams come true? No. When they do,
it is a coincidence."

"Yes. I suppose so. But this is rather more than a coincidence. I do not
understand it at all. After all, I am a perfectly healthy man. It never
occurred to you that my mind might be unbalanced, did it?"

Guido looked at the rugged Roman head, the muscular throat, the broad
shoulders.

"No," he answered. "It certainly never occurred to me."

"Nor to me either," said Lamberti, and he ate slowly and thoughtfully.

"My friend," observed Guido, "you are just a little enigmatical this
evening."

"Not at all, not at all! I tell you that my nerves are good. You know
something about archaeology, do you not?"

The apparently irrelevant question came after a short pause.

"Not much," Guido answered, supposing that Lamberti wished to change the
subject on account of the servant. "What do you want to know?"

"Nothing," said Lamberti. "The question is, whether what I dreamt last
nigh