United States or Latvia ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
But the dream-face did not fade, the dream-eyes gazed softly into his, the dream-lips moved, and the low sound of the dream-voice was music to his ears. "You are sick," the voice said; "you are in pain." Bill's throat was dry with a burning thirst. "Water!" he gasped, and the word rasped harsh. The girl reached into the shadows and a tiny white-brown hand appeared holding a dripping tin cup.
A stronger motive impelled me. The dream-face still haunted me those features of strange type its strangely-beautiful expression, not Caucasian, not Indian, not Asiatic. Was it possible probable "Could you describe her, Scipio?" I repeated. "'Scribe her, mass'r; daat what you mean? ye yes."
He carried a cord, probably attached to his body. He climbed on to the sill, over the bar, and climbed down again. By means of this cord a rope was pulled up over the bar, by means of the rope one of those ladders of silk and bamboo. One of the Doctor's servants ascended probably to ascertain if the hashish had acted successfully. That was the yellow dream-face which West saw bending over him.
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!"
It was my ashes of roses, the music of my first love, its poignancies softened by time and memory into an ineffable, faint melody; it was the moon that drenched my bygone youth with wonder-light a dream-face, exquisite as running water, unfolding flowers and those other sweets that poets try in vain to entangle in the meshes of word and rhythm.
"You are then an apparition, a dream-face, a shadow. You came out of thin air!" I stood up, and he turned familiarly about me and whispered like an echo in my ear, "Out of thin air." And he laughed. "And you?" he went on. "On what star did you begin? Can you tell me? Never yet have I found a man who could answer that question. But we do not know, because we cannot remember.
So I bounded out of bed, wishing I could recall that dream-face, just to make sure whether or no it was more beautiful than either of the girls'. And by the time I had dressed, and gone across to "Mascotte's" deck, the two I loved were on deck also, with the first light of dawn shining in their eyes. What did it matter that we had engaged rooms at Zwolle, which we had not occupied?
"Then there was something more, in connection with her dream," and she told him how Lyle had at last identified the pictured face which seemed so familiar to her, as the dream-face of her childhood, and how immediately after the dream had returned.
Whenever I essayed to recall the features of the Creole, the dream-face rose up before me more palpable than ever! "Strange!" thought I, "this lovely vision! this dream of my diseased brain! Oh! what would I not give to embody this fair spectral form!" I had no longer a doubt about it. I was certain I did not love Mademoiselle Besancon, and yet I was far from feeling indifferent towards her.
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?
Word Of The Day