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leste. She had retreated to the sofa, and her handkerchief was up to her eyes. The surgeon was waiting for me; he bandaged me, and applied some cooling lotion to my side, which made me feel quite comfortable. "I must now leave you," said General O'Brien; "you had better lie down for an hour or two, and then, if I am not back, you know your way to Celeste." I lay down as he requested; but as soon as I heard the clatter of the horses hoofs, as he rode off, I left the room, and hurried to the drawing room. Celeste was there, and hastened to inquire if I was much hurt. I replied in the negative, and told her that I had come down to prove it to her; we then sat down on the sofa together. "I have the misfortune never to appear before you, Celeste, except in a very unprepossessing state. When you first saw me, I was wounded; at our next meeting I was in woman's clothes; the last time we met I was covered with dirt and gunpowder; and now I return to you, wounded and in rags. I wonder wether I shall ever appear before you as a gentleman." "It is not the clothes which make the gentleman, Peter. I am too happy to see you to think of how you are dressed. I have never yet thanked you for your kindness to us when we last met. My father will never forget it." "Nor have I thanked you, Celeste, for your kindness in dropping the purse into the hat, when you met me trying to escape from France. I have never forgotten you, and since we met the last time, you have hardly ever been out of my thoughts. You don't know how thankful I am to the hurricane for having blown me into your presence. When we cruised in the brig, I have often examined the town with my glass, trying to fancy that I had my eye upon the house you were in; and have felt so happy when we were close in-shore, because I knew that I was nearer to you." "And, Peter, I am sure I have often watched the brig, and have been so glad to see it come nearer and then so afraid that the batteries would fire at you. What a pity it is that my father and you should be opposed to each other--we might be so happy!" "And may be yet, Celeste," replied I. We conversed for two hours, which appeared to be but ten minutes. I felt that I was in love, but I do not think that Celeste had any idea at the time that she was--but I leave the reader to judge, from the little conversation I have quoted, wether she was not, or something very much approaching to it. The next
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