r--a narcotic influence produced
by the combined action of the sun's rays and the perfume of the flowers.
It acted upon my spirit, and I fell asleep.

I slept only about an hour, but it was a sleep of dreams; and during
that short period I passed through many scenes. Many a visionary
tableau appeared before the eye of my slumbering soul, and then melted
away. There were more or less characters in each; but in all of them
two were constant, both well defined in form and features. They were
Eugenie and Aurore.

Gayarre, too, was in my dreams; and the ruffian overseer, and Scipio,
and the mild face of Reigart, and what I could remember of the good
Antoine. Even the unfortunate Captain of the boat, the boat herself,
the Magnolia, and the scene of the wreck--all were reproduced with a
painful distinctness!

But my visions were not all of a painful character. Some were the very
opposite--scenes of bliss. In company with Aurore, I was wandering
through flowery glades, and exchanging the sweet converse of mutual
love. The very spot where I lay--the scene around me--was pictured in
the dream.

Strangest of all, I thought that Eugenie was with us, and that she, too,
was happy; that she had consented to my marrying Aurore, and had even
assisted us in bringing about this happy consummation!

In this vision Gayarre was the fiend; and I thought that after a while
he endeavoured to drag Aurore from me. A struggle followed, and then
the scene ended with confused abruptness.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

A new tableau arose--a new vision. In this _Eugenie_ played the part of
the evil genius. I thought she had refused my requests--refused to
_sell Aurore_. I fancied her jealous, hostile, vengeful. I thought she
was loading me with imprecations, my betrothed with threats. Aurore was
weeping. It was a painful vision.

The scene changed again. Aurore and I were happy--she was free--she was
now mine, and we were married. But there was a cloud upon our
happiness. _Eugenie was dead_.

Yes, dead. I thought I was bending over her, and had taken her hand.
Suddenly her fingers closed upon mine, and held them with a firm
pressure. I thought that the contact was disagreeable; and I
endeavoured to withdraw my hand, but could not. My fingers remained
bound within that cold clammy grasp; and with all my strength I was
unable to release them! Suddenly I was stung; and at the sa