Dreams and Dream Stories | Page 7

and
barred windows of the house was flecked and splashed with the same
horrible dye. "Some one has been murdered in this place!" I cried, and
flew towards the door. Then, for the first time, I perceived that the door
had neither lock nor handle on the outside, but could be opened only
from within. It had, indeed, the form and appearance of a door, but in
every other respect it was solid and impassable as the walls themselves.
In vain I searched for bell or knocker, or for some means of making

entry into the house. I found only a scroll fastened with nails upon a
crossbeam over the door, and upon it I read the words:--"This is the
Laboratory of a Vivisector." As I read, the wailing sound redoubled in
intensity, and a noise as of struggling made itself audible within, as
though some new victim had been added to the first. I beat madly
against the door with my hands and shrieked for help; but in vain. My
dress was reddened with the blood upon the door step. In horror I
looked down upon it, then turned and fled. As I passed along the street,
the sounds around me grew and gathered volume, formulating
themselves into distinct cries and bursts of frenzied sobbing. Upon the
door of every house some scroll was attached, similar to that I had
already seen. Upon one was inscribed:--"Here is a husband murdering
his wife:" upon another:--"Here is a mother beating her child to death:"
upon a third: "This is a slaughter-house." Every door was impassable;
every window was barred. The idea of interference from without was
futile. Vainly I lifted my voice and cried for aid. The street was
desolate as a graveyard; the only thing that moved about me was the
stealthy blood that came creeping out from beneath the doors of these
awful dwellings. Wild with horror I fled along the street, seeking some
outlet, the cries and moans pursuing me as I ran. At length the street
abruptly ended in a high dead wall, the top of which was not
discernible; it seemed, indeed, to be limitless in height. Upon this wall
was written in great black letters-- "There is no way out."
Overwhelmed with despair and anguish, I fell upon the stones of the
street, repeating aloud "There is no way out."
- Hinton, Jan. 1877

V. The Bird and the Cat *
I dreamt that I had a beautiful bird in a cage, and that the cage was
placed on a table in a room where there was a cat. I took the bird out of
the cage and put him on the table. Instantly the cat sprang upon
----------------- * This dream and the next occurred at a moment when it
had almost been decided to relax the rule of privacy until then observed

in regard to our psychological experiences, among other ways, by
submitting them to some of the savants of the Paris Faculty,--a project
of which these dreams at once caused the abandonment. This was not
the only occasion on which a dream bore a twofold aspect, being a
warning or a prediction, according to the heed given to it. (Ed.)
------------------
him and seized him in her mouth. I threw myself upon her and strove to
wrest away her prey, loading her with reproaches and bewailing the
fate of my beautiful bird. Then suddenly some one said to me, "You
have only yourself to blame for this misfortune. While the bird
remained in his cage he was safe. Why should you have taken him out
before the eyes of the cat?"

VI. The Treasure in the Lighted House
A second time I dreamt, and saw a house built in the midst of a forest.
It was night, and all the rooms of the house were brilliantly illuminated
by lamps. But the strange thing was that the windows were without
shutters, and reached to the ground. In one of the rooms sat an old man
counting money and jewels on a table before him. I stood in the spirit
beside him, and presently heard outside the windows a sound of
footsteps and of men's voices talking together in hushed tones. Then a
face peered in at the lighted room, and I became aware that there were
many persons assembled without in the darkness, watching the old man
and his treasure. He also heard them, and rose from his seat in alarm,
clutching his gold and gems and endeavoring to hide them. "Who are
they?" I asked him. He answered, his face white with terror; "They are
robbers and assassins. This forest is their haunt. They will murder me,
and seize my treasure." "If this be so," said I, "why did you build your