"Come," said General O'Brien; "come, my dear friend, now that you have seen Celeste, the surgeon must see you."
"The surgeon," cried Celeste, with alarm.
"Yes, my love; it is of no consequence—only a couple of ribs broken."
I followed General O'Brien out of the room, and as I came to the door I turned round to look at Celeste. 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 horse's 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; and 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 whether 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 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!"