After a few minutes I
suddenly found myself encompassed by the darkness of the noble trees in
the valley of Fataua.

There in the valley my dream continued, for I ceased to believe in
it,--the utter impossibility of really being there impressed itself upon
my mind,--for very often I had been duped by such illusions which always
vanished when I awoke. My main concern was lest I should wake wholly,
for the vision, incomplete as it was, enchanted me. At least the carpet
of rare ferns was really there. As I groped in the night air and plucked
them I said to myself: "Surely these plants are real, for I can touch
them and I have them in my hand; surely they will not disappear when the
dream vanishes." And I grasped them with all my strength to be sure of
keeping them.

I awoke. A beautiful summer day had dawned, and in the village was heard
the noise of recommencing life. The continual clucking of the hens as
they roamed about in the streets, and the click-clack of the weaver's
loom caused me to realize where I was. My empty hand was still shut
tight, and the nails were pressed almost into the flesh, the better to
guard that imaginary bouquet of Fataua, composed of the impalpable stuff
of dreams.

CHAPTER XLVII.

I had very quickly attached myself to my grown cousins, and I felt as
well acquainted with them as if I had always known them. I believe it
is necessary that there should be the bond of blood for the creation
of those intimate relations between people, who but the day before were
almost ignorant of each other's existence. I also loved my uncle and
aunt; my aunt especially, who spoiled me a little, and who was so good
and still so beautiful in spite of her sixty years, her gray hair and
her grandmotherly way of dressing herself. In these levelling days,
wherein one person is so like another, people of my aunt's type no
longer exist. Born in the neighborhood, of a very ancient family, she
had never been away from this province of France, and her manners, her
hospitality, and her exquisite courtesy had a local stamp, every detail
of which pleased me greatly.

In direct contrast to my sheltered home life, here I lived almost
entirely out of doors. I roamed about in the streets and highways, and
often I went beyond the gates of the town. The narrow streets paved
with black pebbles like those in the Orient, and bordered with gothic
dwellings of the time of Louis XIII, had a singular charm for me. I
alread