The effect of this on my shattered nerves was delightful; and, for the first time since I had recovered my recollection, I lay back with my heart full of gratitude to the Almighty for his mercy towards me. I now remembered that I had been wounded, and began to piece together in my mind the transactions at the gaming-table, and the various circumstances that had preceded my sallying forth, and wondering who had been the good Samaritan who had poured oil and wine into my wounds. I again looked earnestly round. "There--what do I see--_who_ is that--_what_ is that? Oh, I am mad--I am mad--and all this is a dream." I looked again. The soft mysterious light already mentioned now floated over the figure of a tall and very handsome young man, dressed with great simplicity--a bluejacket, red striped shirt, open at the collar, with his loose black neckerchief untied, the ends hanging down on his bosom, and white trowsers. He was seated at an easel in the boudoir, under the geranium, and close to the window, with his profile towards me, a palette and paint-brush in one hand, while with a finger of the other he seemed to be in the act of tracing a line on the canvass before him. His complexion was very dark and sunburnt, his mouth and nose beautifully formed, and his forehead, on which the cold light from above was cast clear and strong, was very high and pale, contrasting finely with the bronzing of his lower features; his hair especially caught my attention--it was black, glossy, and curling. "Great God! is it _him_, or his disembodied spirit?"
A young female, who until this moment I had scarcely noticed, stood behind his chair, and bent over him, looking also earnestly at the half-finished painting on the easel;--a tall and light-formed girl, very pale, and wearing her hair dressed high on her head without any ornament whatever; she was habited in a plain white frock, low cut at the bosom, with a pale green band round her waist, and had one of her beautifully-rounded arms extended over his shoulder, while the other rested on the back of his chair, as, with lips apart, she pointed to some particular part of the painting.
Both continued so perfectly immovable that I could not even discern his breathing, nor the heaving of her lovely bosom. "Were they beings of this world?--was it him in very truth?" At this moment the leaves of the trees above were agitated by the passing breeze, for small twittering shadows were suddenly cast on the faces and figures of the group, so as to alter the expression of the former in a startling way, making them flit and gibber, as it were. I thought some horrid change was coming o'er the spirit of my dream, as I exclaimed,--"Oh, no, no!--he is gone, poor fellow--gone--cold at the bottom of the sea--and I am mad--Oh God, I am a lunatic!" And I once more shut my eyes and wept, until I thought my very heart would have burst in twain; but they were blessed tears, for they revived me, and my soul felt lighter as I again thanked Heaven for my deliverance, and tried to convince myself that all I had seen was but the phantoms of my weakness. A minute might have fled before I looked up again, but the lovely delusion was gone, as the servant or nurse who was attending me, perceiving me so excited by what I had seen in the other apartment, had risen and closed the window-blinds; thus shutting out every thing in the room beyond from my view.