merits of the horses, to
prove that it was impossible for me, a perfect stranger, to escape
bankruptcy among so many sharpers. "But," said I, "the horse-race
takes place to-morrow, does it not?" "Yes, sare, to-morrow at three
o'clock! You will be there? I shall also be there!" "But, my good
friend, I leave to-night in the steamer; therefore all your kindness
is thrown away!" "Oh! you must not leave to-night. You must see the
horse-race!" In vain I assured him it was impossible for me to remain.
He was not to be put off on any pretext, and, having made up his mind
that I must remain, I was forced to drop the subject and let him have
his way. While he was enlarging upon the merits of the black mare, my
attention was attracted by a group of bathers--ladies, as I judged by
their voices, though, as they were dressed in rather a fantastic
style, I could not perceive any other indication of the sex. One of
the party--a lively young girl of sixteen or seventeen--seemed to be a
perfect mermaid. She plunged and swam, ducked and dived, kicked up her
delicate little feet, and disappeared under the surf in a way that
struck me with awe and admiration. Never was there such an enchanting
picture of perfect abandonment to the enjoyment of the occasion. A
poetic feeling I took possession of me. Visions of grottoes under the
deep sea waves, and beautiful princesses and maidens, filled my soul.
I thought of Gulnare in the Arabian Nights, and felt disposed, like
Mirza, the King of Persia, to "embrace her with great tenderness." It
was really a very pretty sight. "Sare," said my companion,
confidentially, "take my advice. She is blind of one eye, and has a
strain in the fore leg, but you may bet on her! I jockeyed her for
six months before the last race." He was still talking about the black
mare. I turned away to hide my impatience. After a few words of
desultory conversation, I excused myself on the plea of sickness, and
bade him good-evening.

At 8 P.M. I took my departure from Revel. A new batch of passengers
had come on board. We were soon steaming our way across the Gulf of
Finland. I had rarely spent a more pleasant day, and, if time had
permitted, would gladly have prolonged my sojourn in the quaint old
city of Revel. The summer nights were still incomparably beautiful. A
glow of sunshine was visible in the sky as late as eleven o'clock. At
two, the rays of the rising sun began to illuminate the horizon. A
dead calm gave to the sle