they were talking in good earnest without intention of fooling him he began to regret that he had said he had forgotten his dream, and rapped out:  he was the prophet Samuel.  Now what are you saying, Joseph? his father asked.  Joseph would not say any more, but it pleased him to observe that neither his father nor his granny laughed at his admission, and seeing how interested they were in his dream he said:  if you want to know all, Samuel said he had heard me say that I’d like to be a prophet.  That was why he came back from the dead.  But, Father, is it true that we are his descendants?  He said that I was.

A most extraordinary dream, his father answered, for it has always been held in the family that we are descended from him.  Do you really mean, Joseph, that the old man you saw in your dream told you he was Samuel and that you were his descendant?  How should I have known if he hadn’t told me?  Joseph looked from one to the other and wondered why they had kept the secret of his ancestor from him.  You laughed at me yesterday, Granny, when I said I’d like to be a prophet.  Now what do you say?  Answer me that.  And he continued to look from one to the other for an answer.  But neither had the wit to find an answer, so amazed were they at the news that the prophet Samuel had visited Joseph in a dream; and satisfied at the impression he had made and a little frightened by their silence Joseph stole out of the room, leaving his parents to place whatever interpretation they pleased on his dream.  Nor did he care whether they believed he had spoken the truth.  He was more concerned with himself than with them, and conscious that something of great importance had happened to him he ascended the stairs, pausing at every step uncertain if he should return to ask for the whole of the story of Saul’s anointment.  It seemed to him to lack courtesy to return to the room in which he had seen the prophet, till he knew these things.  But he could not return to ask questions:  later he would learn what had happened to Samuel and Saul, and he entered the room, henceforth to him a sacred room, and stood looking through it, having all the circumstances of his dream well in mind:  he was lying on his left side when Samuel had risen up before him, and it was there, upon that spot, in that space he had seen Samuel.  His ancestor had seemed to fade away from the waist downwards, but his face was extraordinarily clear in the darkness, and Joseph tried to recall it.  But he could only remember it as a face that a spirit might wear, for it was not made up of flesh but of some glowing matter or stuff, such as glow-worms are made of; nor could he call it ugly or beautiful, for it was not of this world.  He had drawn the bed-clothes over his head, but—­impelled he knew not why, for he was nearly dead with fright—­he had poked his head out to see if the face was still there.  The lips did not move, but he had heard a voice.  The tones were not like any heard before, but he had listened to them all the same, and if he had not lost his wits again in an excess of fear he would have put questions to Samuel:  he would have put questions if his tongue had not been tied back somewhere in the roof of his mouth.  But the next time he would not be frightened and pull the bed-clothes over his head.