“Not yet, not yet,” I whispered. “But it is coming. Yes, I see myself, and — and — a woman — a very pretty woman. I am clasping her hand.”

“Don’t you recognize the woman?” Again Emmeline’s voice vibrated like a lamentation in my ear. I did recognize the woman, and the sweat stood on my brow.

“It is Rosetta Rosa!”

“And what else do you see?” my questioner pursued remorselessly.

“I see a figure behind us,” I stammered, “but what figure I cannot make out. It is threatening me. It is threatening me! It is a horrible thing. It will kill me! Ah — !”

I jumped up with a