"It will be a long time before he awakes, and while he sleeps the four feudal horsemen of the Beast will course through the land as its only lords." Tchernoff was overpowered by the intensity of his dramatic vision.
Springing from his seat, he paced up and down with great strides; but his picture of the fourfold catastrophe revealed by the gloomy poet's trance, seemed to him very weak indeed.

A great painter had given corporeal form to these terrible dreams.
"I have a book," he murmured, "a rare book.".

.

.
And suddenly he left the studio and went to his own quarters.

He wanted to bring the book to show to his friends.