ke
that of Eugenie Besancon!

Was there any one besides--any one on board the boat that my dream
resembled? No, not one--I could not think of one. There was none in
whom I had taken even a momentary interest--with the exception of the
Creole--but the lineaments my fancy, or memory, now conjured up were
entirely unlike to hers: in fact, of quite an opposite character!

Before my mind's eye hung masses of glossy black hair, waving along the
brows and falling over the shoulders in curling clusters. Within this
ebon framework were features to mock the sculptor's chisel. The mouth,
with its delicate rose-coloured ellipse; the nose, with smooth straight
outline, and small recurvant nostril; the arching brows of jet; the long
fringes upon the eyelids; all were vividly before me, and all unlike the
features of Eugenie Besancon. The colour of the skin, too--even that
was different. It was not that Circassian white that characterised the
complexion of the Creole, but a colour equally clear, though tinged with
a blending of brown and olive, which gave to the red upon the cheeks a
tint of crimson. The eye I fancied, or remembered well--better than
aught else. It was large, rounded, and of dark-brown colour; but its
peculiarity consisted in a certain expression, strange but lovely. Its
brilliance was extreme, but it neither flashed nor sparkled. It was
more like a gorgeous gem viewed by the spectator while at rest. Its
light did not blaze--it seemed rather to burn.

Despite some pain which I felt, I lay for many minutes pondering over
this lovely portrait, and wondering whether it was a memory or a dream.
A singular reflection crossed my mind. I could not help thinking, that
if such a face were real, I could forget Mademoiselle Besancon, despite
the romantic incident that had attended our introduction!

The pain of my arm at length dissipated the beautiful vision, and
recalled me to my present situation. On throwing back the counterpane,
I observed with surprise that the wound had been dressed, and evidently
by a surgeon! Satisfied on this head, I cast my eye abroad to make a
reconnoissance of my quarters.

The room I occupied was small, but notwithstanding the obstruction of
the mosquito bar, I could see that it was furnished with taste and
elegance. The furniture was light--mostly cane-work--and the floor was
covered with a matting of sea-grass finely woven, and stained into
various colours. The windows were g