I was standing on a bridge over the middle of a river. It was damp, cold and foggy. Suddenly four horsemen appeared at one end of the bridge and began to shoot at me. They were about my age but unknown to me. At the same time a spectator on horseback sprang up from the river and took a position between us deflecting the bullets. He handed me four ivory-handled knives. I took them at his bidding and cast them (quite awkwardly) in the direction of the approaching man. They seemed to be charmed for they all found their mark.