“Hilloa, Mister! What’s gwine wrong? Anybody fell overboard!”
I heeded not the rude interrogatory. A deeper pang absorbed my soul, forcing from me the wild exclamation that had given the speaker cause.
The two forms parted—with a mutual pressure of the hand, with a kiss they parted! The young man hastened across the staging. I did not observe his face, as he passed under the light. I had taken no notice of him, my eyes by some strange fascination remaining fixed upon her. I was curious to observe how she would act in this final moment of leave-taking.
The planks were drawn aboard. The signal-bell sounded. I could perceive that we were moving away.
At this moment the shrouded form of the lady glided forward into the light. She was advancing to catch a farewell glance of her lover. A few steps brought her to the edge of the wharf-boat, where the torch was glaring. Her hood-like gun-bonnet was thrown back. The light fell full upon her face, glistened along the undulating masses of black hair that shrouded her temples, and danced in her glorious eyes. Good God! they were the eyes of Aurore!
No wonder I uttered the wild ejaculation—
“It is she!”
“What?—a female! overboard, do you say? Where? Where?”
The man was evidently in earnest. My soliloquy had been loud enough to reach his ears.
He believed it to be a reply to his previous question, and my excited manner confirmed him in the belief that a woman had actually fallen into the river!