There was a large balcony or open window in the wall of the apartment farthest from the street, towards which I had turned my face, that opened into a room beyond, at a height of about three feet from the floor. It was fitted with shutters opening inwards, like those of the external windows. The saloon into which I looked was apparently a lofty room, and lighted, so far as I could judge, entirely from the roof. I also inferred that this part of the house projected back from the main building, and that it was lower, and overshadowed by green trees; for the light that shone from above was subdued, and green, and cold, and more like moonlight than that of the sun. On the walls beyond I could see pictures; and a piano stood near the window, and several sofas were scattered about, so that it appeared better furnished than most houses I had seen in the place; and I knew, that although I was certainly not in Mr M——'s house, neither was I in that of a Spaniard. There was a very handsome geranium, in an ornamented porcelain jar, in the window, which, in some measure, impeded my view at the top; although near the sill there was only the solitary stalk, naked of leaves. Presently, as my eyes got accustomed to the twilight, I noticed gloves, and bonnets, and several large green fans, lying on a table beyond the window, as if this had been the retreat of some of the females of the family; all continued as still as death—and the coolness and freshness of the apartment I looked into, was grateful beyond belief to my feverish eye and swimming brain. By and by I heard a rattling and creaking volante drive past, and the shouts of the driver to his mule, which excited me; and I once more asked the person who was sitting knitting beside me, where I was. "Hush, hush—until the doctor comes," was still the answer,—and I again turned my eyes in the direction of the balcony, and gloated on the flowers and leaves of the noble plant on the window-sill, which seemed jet black, as they twinkled in the breeze between me and the light. I could now hear the sea-breeze set in, and rush amongst the branches of the trees, and moan through the long galleries and lofty apartments of the house—slamming a shutter to here, and making a door bang there, and rustling the shawls, and bonnets, and female gear in the boudoir.
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.
The doctor now arrived, and, sliding up to my bedside, made his enquiries as to how I felt, and was greatly pleased with my amendment. "This will be great joy to all of them, sir," said he, in broken English; "so, Mrs Gerard, give your patient his draught, and after the sleep I hope it will procure"——
I interrupted him. "Pray, doctor, how long have I been ill?—and how is all going on in the little Midge?—and in whose house am I?—and who were the young lady and gentleman that I saw?"
He laughed. "Why, Mr Brail, you have fired off one whole broadside of questions at me; but rest satisfied—all is right on board of de leetle vessel; and you are in my friend Mr Duquesné's house, who (if you will only take my advice, and try and obtain some rest, for you have not slept since you were wounded a week ago) will have the pleasure of paying his respects to you—and Miss Helen Hudson, too, longs——But I declare I am forgetting my own instructions—so not vone oder vord, monsieur,—not vone vord—Adieu until de afternoon." And he vanished out of the room in the same noiseless cat-like way he had entered it.
To obtain any information from the nurse that sat beside me, I knew was out of the question; so I took the medicine, and soon fell into a balmy sleep.
END OF VOLUME ONE.
EDINBURGH: PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND CO., PAUL'S WORK.