I thought that I saw a battle on a vast plain.  Two armies were ranked against each other and fought and intermingled.  The dress of the soldiers in the one army was like the dress of the soldiers in the other army, and the flags were alike in colour, so that no soldier could say which flags were his.  The men intermingled and fought, and, not able to know enemy from friend, slew friend and enemy, and slew until but two opponents remained; these two shook hands, and laughed, and I saw their faces; and the face of one was the face of Dr. Khayme, but the face of the other I did not know.

Now, dreams have always been of but little interest to me.  I had dreamed true dreams at times, but I had dreamed many more that were false.  In my ignorance of the powers and weaknesses of the mind, I had judged that it would be strange if among a thousand dreams not one should prove true.  So this dream passed for the time from my mind.

We had breakfast early.  The Doctor was always calm and grave.  Lydia looked anxious, yet more cheerful.  There was little talk; we expected a trial to our nerves.

After breakfast the Doctor took two camp-stools; Lydia carried one; we went to a sand-hill near the beach.

To the south of the Minnesota now lay a peculiar vessel.  No one had ever seen anything like her.  She seemed nothing but a flat raft with a big round cistern—­such as are seen in the South and West—­amidships, and a very big box or barrel on one end.

The Merrimac was coming; there were crowds of spectators on the batteries and on the dunes.

The Monitor remained near the Minnesota; the Merrimac came on.  From each of the iron ships came great spouts of smoke, from each the sound of heavy guns.  The wind drove away the smoke rapidly; every manoeuvre could be seen.

The Merrimac looked like a giant by the side of the other, but the other was quicker.

They fought for hours, the Merrimac slowly moving past the Monitor and firing many guns, the Monitor turning quickly and seeming to fire but seldom.  Sometimes they were so near each other they seemed to touch.

At last they parted; the Monitor steamed toward the shore, and the great Merrimac headed southward and went away into the distance.

Throughout the whole of this battle there had been silence in our little group, nor did we hear shout or word near us; feeling was too deep; on the issue of the contest depended vast results.

When the ships ended their fighting I felt immense relief; I could not tell whether our side had won, but I know that the Merrimac had hauled off without accomplishing her purpose; I think that was all that any of us knew.  At any moment I should not have been astonished to see the Merrimac blow her little antagonist to pieces, or run her down; to my mind the fight had been very unequal.