surprise. One was Eugenie; beyond
doubt the other was Aurore!

"Your name!" said the astonished mistress.

"My name!" repeated the equally astonished slave.

"But how?--he knows your name--how?"

"I cannot tell, ma'amselle."

"Have you been here before?"

"No; not till this moment."

"'Tis very strange!" said the young lady, turning towards me with an
inquiring glance.

I was now awake, and in full possession of my senses--enough to perceive
that I had been talking too loud. My knowledge of the quadroon's name
would require an explanation, and for the life of me I knew not what to
say. To tell what I had been thinking--to account for the expressions I
had uttered--would have placed me in a very absurd position; and yet to
maintain silence might leave Ma'amselle Besancon busy with some strange
thoughts. Something must be said--a little deceit was absolutely
necessary.

In hopes she would speak first, and, perchance, give me a key to what I
should say, I remained for some moments without opening my lips. I
pretended to feel pain from my wound, and turned uneasily on the bed.
She seemed not to notice this, but remained in her attitude of surprise,
simply repeating the words--

"'Tis very strange he should know your name!"

My imprudent speech had made an impression. I could remain silent no
longer; and, turning my face once more, I pretended now for the first
time to be aware of Mademoiselle's presence, at the same time offering
my congratulations, and expressing my joy at seeing her.

After one or two anxious inquiries in relation to my wound, she asked--

"But how came you to name Aurore?"

"Aurore!" I replied. "Oh! you think it strange that I should know her
name? Thanks to Scipio's faithful portraiture, I knew at the first
glance that this was Aurore."

I pointed to the quadroon, who had retired a pace or two, and stood
silent and evidently astonished.

"Oh! Scipio has been speaking of her?"

"Yes, ma'amselle. He and I have had a busy morning of it. I have drawn
largely on Scipio's knowledge of plantation affairs. I am already
acquainted with Aunt Chloe, and little Chloe, and a whole host of your
people. These things interest me who am strange to your Louisiana
life."

"Monsieur," replied the lady, seemingly satisfied with my explanation,
"I am glad you are so well. The doctor has given me the assurance you
will soon recover. Noble stranger! I have heard how you received your