Ididallamancoulddotoreclaimher。Quiteuseless！ShehadneverreallyreturnedtheloveIfeltforher:Ihadnoinfluence；
　　Icoulddonothing。Mymother，hearingofthislastworsetrouble，resolvedtotrywhatherinfluencecoulddo。Illasshewas，I
　　foundheronedaydressedtogoout。
　　“Iamnotlongforthisworld，Francis，“shesaid。“Ishallnotfeeleasyonmydeathbed，unlessIhavedonemybesttothelasttomakeyouhappy。Imeantoputmyownfearsandmyownfeelingsoutofthequestion，andgowithyoutoyourwife，andtrywhatIcandotoreclaimher。Takemehomewithyou，Francis。LetmedoallIcantohelpmyson，beforeitistoolate。“
　　HowcouldIdisobeyher？Wetooktherailwaytothetown:itwasonlyhalfanhour’sride。Byoneo’clockintheafternoonwereachedmyhouse。Itwasourdinnerhour，andAliciawasinthekitchen。Iwasabletotakemymotherquietlyintotheparlorandthentopreparemywifeforthevisit。Shehaddrunkbutlittleatthatearlyhour；and，luckily，thedevilinherwastamedforthetime。
　　Shefollowedmeintotheparlor，andthemeetingpassedoffbetterthanIhadventuredtoforecast；withthisonedrawback，thatmymother——thoughshetriedhardtocontrolherself——shrankfromlookingmywifeinthefacewhenshespoketoher。ItwasarelieftomewhenAliciabegantopreparethetablefordinner。
　　Shelaidthecloth，broughtinthebreadtray，andcutsomeslicesforusfromtheloaf。Thenshereturnedtothekitchen。Atthatmoment，whileIwasstillanxiouslywatchingmymother，IwasstartledbyseeingthesameghastlychangepassoverherfacewhichhadaltereditinthemorningwhenAliciaandshefirstmet。
　　BeforeIcouldsayaword，shestartedupwithalookofhorror。
　　“Takemeback！——home，homeagain，Francis！Comewithme，andnevergobackmore！“
　　Iwasafraidtoaskforanexplanation；Icouldonlysignhertobesilent，andhelpherquicklytothedoor。Aswepassedthebreadtrayonthetable，shestoppedandpointedtoit。
　　“Didyouseewhatyourwifecutyourbreadwith？“sheasked。
　　“No，mother；Iwasnotnoticing。Whatwasit？“
　　“Look！“
　　Ididlook。Anewclaspknife，withabuckhornhandle，laywiththeloafinthebreadtray。Istretchedoutmyhandtopossessmyselfofit。Atthesamemoment，therewasanoiseinthekitchen，andmymothercaughtmebythearm。
　　“TheknifeoftheDream！Francis，I’mfaintwithfear——takemeawaybeforeshecomesback！“
　　Icouldn’tspeaktocomfortoreventoanswerher。SuperiorasI
　　wastosuperstition，thediscoveryoftheknifestaggeredme。Insilence，Ihelpedmymotheroutofthehouse；andtookherhome。
　　Iheldoutmyhandtosaygood-by。Shetriedtostopme。
　　“Don’tgoback，Francis！don’tgoback！“
　　“Imustgettheknife，mother。Imustgobackbythenexttrain。“
　　Iheldtothatresolution。BythenexttrainIwentback。
　　Mywifehad，ofcourse，discoveredoursecretdeparturefromthehouse。Shehadbeendrinking。Shewasinafuryofpassion。Thedinnerinthekitchenwasflungunderthegrate；theclothwasofftheparlortable。Wherewastheknife？
　　Iwasfoolishenoughtoaskforit。Sherefusedtogiveittome。
　　Inthecourseofthedisputebetweenuswhichfollowed，I
　　discoveredthattherewasahorriblestoryattachedtotheknife。
　　Ithadbeenusedinamurder——yearssince——andhadbeensoskillfullyhiddenthattheauthoritieshadbeenunabletoproduceitatthetrial。Byhelpofsomeofherdisreputablefriends，mywifehadbeenabletopurchasethisrelicofabygonecrime。Herpervertednaturesetsomehorridunacknowledgedvalueontheknife。
　　Seeingtherewasnohopeofgettingitbyfairmeans，Ideterminedtosearchforit，laterintheday，insecret。Thesearchwasunsuccessful。Nightcameon，andIleftthehousetowalkaboutthestreets。YouwillunderstandwhatabrokenmanIwasbythistime，whenItellyouIwasafraidtosleepinthesameroomwithher！
　　Threeweekspassed。Stillsherefusedtogiveuptheknife；andstillthatfearofsleepinginthesameroomwithherpossessedme。
　　Iwalkedaboutatnight，ordozedintheparlor，orsatwatchingbymymother’sbedside。Beforetheendofthefirstweekinthenewmonth，theworstmisfortuneofallbefellme——mymotherdied。Itwantedthenbutashorttimetomybirthday。Shehadlongedtolivetillthatday。Iwaspresentatherdeath。Herlastwordsinthisworldwereaddressedtome。“Don’tgoback，myson——don’tgoback！“
　　Iwasobligedtogoback，ifitwasonlytowatchmywife。Inthelastdaysofmymother’sillnessshehadspitefullyaddedastingtomygriefbydeclaringshewouldassertherrighttoattendthefuneral。InspiteofallthatIcoulddoorsay，sheheldtoherword。Onthedayappointedfortheburialsheforcedherself，inflamedandshamelesswithdrink，intomypresence，andsworeshewouldwalkinthefuneralprocessiontomymother’sgrave。
　　Thislastinsult——afterallIhadgonethroughalready——wasmorethanIcouldendure。Itmaddenedme。Trytomakeallowancesforamanbesidehimself。Istruckher。
　　Theinstanttheblowwasdealt，Irepentedit。Shecroucheddown，silent，inacorneroftheroom，andeyedmesteadily。Itwasalookthatcooledmyhotbloodinaninstant。Therewasnotimenowtothinkofmakingatonement。Icouldonlyrisktheworst，andmakesureofhertillthefuneralwasover。Ilockedherintoherbedroom。
　　WhenIcameback，afterlayingmymotherinthegrave，Ifoundhersittingbythebedside，verymuchalteredinlookandbearing，withabundleonherlap。Shefacedmequietly；shespokewithacuriousstillnessinhervoice——strangelyandunnaturallycomposedinlookandmanner。
　　“Nomanhaseverstruckmeyet，“shesaid。“Myhusbandshallhavenosecondopportunity。Setthedooropen，andletmego。“
　　Shepassedme，andlefttheroom。Isawherwalkawayupthestreet。Wasshegoneforgood？
　　AllthatnightIwatchedandwaited。Nofootstepcamenearthehouse。Thenextnight，overcomewithfatigue，Ilaydownonthebedinmyclothes，withthedoorlocked，thekeyonthetable，andthecandleburning。Myslumberwasnotdisturbed。Thethirdnight，thefourth，thefifth，thesixth，passed，andnothinghappened。Ilaydownontheseventhnight，stillsuspiciousofsomethinghappening；stillinmyclothes；stillwiththedoorlocked，thekeyonthetable，andthecandleburning。
　　Myrestwasdisturbed。Iawoketwice，withoutanysensationofuneasiness。Thethirdtime，thathorridshiveringofthenightatthelonelyinn，thatawfulsinkingpainattheheart，camebackagain，androusedmeinaninstant。Myeyesturnedtotheleft-
　　handsideofthebed。Andtherestood，lookingatme——
　　TheDreamWomanagain？No！Mywife。Thelivingwoman，withthefaceoftheDream——intheattitudeoftheDream——thefairarmup；
　　theknifeclaspedinthedelicatewhitehand。
　　Ispranguponherontheinstant；butnotquicklyenoughtostopherfromhidingtheknife。Withoutawordfromme，withoutacryfromher，Ipinionedherinachair。WithonehandIfeltuphersleeve；andthere，wheretheDreamWomanhadhiddentheknife，mywifehadhiddenit——theknifewiththebuckhornhandle，thatlookedlikenew。
　　WhatIfeltwhenImadethatdiscoveryIcouldnotrealizeatthetime，andIcan’tdescribenow。Itookonesteadylookatherwiththeknifeinmyhand。“Youmeanttokillme？“Isaid。
　　“Yes，“sheanswered；“Imeanttokillyou。“Shecrossedherarmsoverherbosom，andstaredmecoollyintheface。“Ishalldoityet，“shesaid。“Withthatknife。“
　　Idon’tknowwhatpossessedme——IsweartoyouIamnocoward；andyetIactedlikeacoward。Thehorrorsgotholdofme。Icouldn’tlookather——Icouldn’tspeaktoher。Ileftherwiththeknifeinmyhand，andwentoutintothenight。
　　Therewasableakwindabroad，andthesmellofrainwasintheair。ThechurchclockschimedthequarterasIwalkedbeyondthelasthouseinthetown。IaskedthefirstpolicemanImetwhathourthatwas，ofwhichthequarterpasthadjuststruck。
　　Themanlookedathiswatch，andanswered，“Twoo’clock。“Twointhemorning。Whatdayofthemonthwasthisdaythathadjustbegun？Ireckoneditupfromthedateofmymother’sfuneral。Thehorridparallelbetweenthedreamandtherealitywascomplete——itwasmybirthday！
　　HadIescapedthemortalperilwhichthedreamforetold？orhadI
　　onlyreceivedasecondwarning？AsthatdoubtcrossedmymindI
　　stoppedonmywayoutofthetown。Theairhadrevivedme——Ifeltinsomedegreelikemyownselfagain。Afteralittlethinking，I
　　begantoseeplainlythemistakeIhadmadeinleavingmywifefreetogowhereshelikedandtodoasshepleased。
　　Iturnedinstantly，andmademywaybacktothehouse。Itwasstilldark。Ihadleftthecandleburninginthebedchamber。WhenIlookeduptothewindowoftheroomnow，therewasnolightinit。Iadvancedtothehousedoor。Ongoingaway，Irememberedtohaveclosedit；ontryingitnow，Ifounditopen。
　　Iwaitedoutside，neverlosingsightofthehousetilldaylight。
　　ThenIventuredindoors——listened，andheardnothing——lookedintothekitchen，scullery，parlor，andfoundnothing——wentupatlastintothebedroom。Itwasempty。
　　Apicklocklayonthefloor，whichtoldmehowshehadgainedentranceinthenight。AndthatwastheonetraceIcouldfindoftheDreamWoman。