, mass'r--daat him bell--be back, 'gain in a minute,
mass'r."

So saying, the negro left me, and ran towards the house.

I lay reflecting on the singular--somewhat romantic--situation in which
circumstances had suddenly placed me. But yesterday--but the night
before--a traveller, without a dollar in my purse, and not knowing what
roof would next shelter me--to-day the guest of a lady, young, rich,
unmarried--the invalid guest--laid up for an indefinite period; well
cared for and well attended.

These thoughts soon gave way to others. The dream-face drove them out
of my mind, and I found myself comparing it with Scipio's picture of the
quadroon. The more I did so, the more I was struck with their
correspondence. How could I have dreamt a thing so palpable? Scarce
probable. Surely I must have seen it? Why not? Forms and faces were
around me when I fainted and was carried in; why not hers among the
rest? This was, indeed, probable, and would explain all. But was she
among them? I should ask Scipio on his return.

The long conversation I had held with my attendant had wearied me, weak
and exhausted as I was. The bright sun shining across my chamber did
not prevent me from feeling drowsy; and after a few minutes I sank back
upon my pillow, and fell asleep.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

THE CREOLE AND QUADROON.

I slept for perhaps an hour soundly. Then something awoke me, and I lay
for some moments only half sensible to outward impressions.

Pleasant impressions they were. Sweet perfumes floated around me; and I
could distinguish a soft, silky rustling, such as betokens the presence
of well-dressed women.

"He wakes, ma'amselle!" half whispered a sweet voice.

My eyes, now open, rested upon the speaker. For some moments I thought
it was but the continuation of my dream. There was the dream-face, the
black profuse hair, the brilliant orbs, the arching brows, the small,
curving lips, the damask cheek--all before me!

"Is it a dream? No--she breathes; she moves; she speaks!"

"See! ma'amselle--he looks at us! Surely he is awake!"

"It is no dream, then--no vision; it is she--it is Aurore!"

Up to this moment I was still but half conscious. The thought had
passed from my lips; but, perhaps, only the last phrase was uttered loud
enough to be heard. An ejaculation that followed fully awoke me, and I
now saw two female forms close by the side of my couch. They stood
regarding each other with looks of