I drew aside the curtains—a bank of snow—pillows, as if prepared for the cheek of a beautiful bride. I had not slept in a bed for two months. A close crib in a transport ship—a “shake-down” among the scorpions6 and spiders of Lobos—a single blanket among the sand-hills, where it was not unusual to wake up half-buried by the drift.
These were my souvenirs. Fancy the prospect7! It certainly invited repose8; and yet I was in no humour to sleep. My brain was in a whirl. The strange incidents of the day—some of them were mysterious—crowded into my mind. My whole system, mental as well as physical, was flushed; and thought followed thought with nervous rapidity.
My heart shared the excitement—chords long silent had been touched—the divine element was fairly enthroned. I was in love!
It was not the first passion of my life, and I easily recognised it. Even jealousy9 had begun to distil10 its poison—“Don Santiago!”
I was standing11 in front of a large mirror, when I noticed two small miniatures hanging against the wall—one on each side of the glass.
I bent12 over to examine, first, that which hung upon the right. I gazed with emotion. They were her features; “and yet,” thought I, “the painter has not flattered her; it might better represent her ten years hence: still, the likeness13 is there. Stupid artist!” I turned to the other. “Her fair sister, no doubt. Gracious heaven! Do my eyes deceive me? No, the black wavy14 hair—the arching brows—the sinister15 lip—Dubrosc!”
A sharp pang16 shot through my heart. I looked at the picture again and again with a kind of incredulous bewilderment; but every fresh examination only strengthened conviction. “There is no mistaking those features—they are his!” Paralysed with the shock, I sank into a chair, my heart filled with the most painful emotions.
For some moments I was unable to think, much less to act.
“What can it mean? Is this accomplished17 villain18 a fiend?—the fiend of my existence?—thus to cross me at every point, perhaps in the end to—.”
Our mutual19 dislike at first meeting—Lobos—his reappearance upon the sand-hills, the mystery of his passing the lines and again appearing with the guerilla—all came forcibly upon my recollection; and now I seized the lamp and rushed back to the pictures.
“Yes, I am not mistaken; it is he—it is she, her features—all—all. And thus, too!—the position—side by side—counterparts! There are no others on the wall; matched—mated—perhaps betrothed20! His name, too, Don Emilio! The American who taught them English! His is Emile—the voice on the island cried ‘Emile!’ Oh, the coincidence is complete! This villain, handsome and accomplished as he is, has been here before me! Betrothed—perhaps married—perhaps—Torture! horrible!”
I reeled back to my chair, dashing the lamp recklessly upon the table. I know not how long I sat, but a world of wintry thoughts passed through my heart and brain. A clock striking from a large picture awoke me from my reverie. I did not count the hours. Music began to play behind the picture. It was a sad, sweet air, that chimed with my feelings, and to some extent soothed21 them. I rose at length, and, hastily undressing, threw myself upon the bed, mentally resolving to forget all—to forget that I had ever seen her.
“I will rise early—return to camp without meeting her, and, once there, my duties will drive away this painful fancy. The drum and the fife and the roar of the cannon22 will drown remembrance. Ha! it was only a passing thought at best—the hallucination of a moment. I shall easily get rid of it. Ha! ha!”
I laid my fevered cheek upon the soft, cold pillow. I felt composed—almost happy.
“A Creole of New Orleans! How could he have been here? Oh! have I not the explanation already? Why should I dwell on it?”
Ah, jealous heart—it is easy to say “forget!”
I tried to prevent my thoughts from returning to this theme. I directed them to a thousand things: to the ships—to the landing—to the army—to the soldiers—to the buttons upon their jackets and the swabs upon their shoulders—to everything I could think of: all in vain. Back, back, back! in painful throes it came, and my heart throbbed23, and my brain burned with bitter memories freshly awakened24.
I turned and tossed upon my couch for many a long hour. The clock in the picture struck, and played the same music again and again, still soothing25 me as before. Even despair has its moments of respite26; and, worn with fatigue27, mental as well as physical, I listened to the sad, sweet strain, until it died away into my dreams.

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1
canopied
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adj. 遮有天篷的 | |
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2
looms
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n.织布机( loom的名词复数 )v.隐约出现,阴森地逼近( loom的第三人称单数 );隐约出现,阴森地逼近 | |
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3
upwards
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adv.向上,在更高处...以上 | |
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4
ornamental
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adj.装饰的;作装饰用的;n.装饰品;观赏植物 | |
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5
virgins
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处女,童男( virgin的名词复数 ); 童贞玛利亚(耶稣之母) | |
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6
scorpions
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n.蝎子( scorpion的名词复数 ) | |
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7
prospect
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n.前景,前途;景色,视野 | |
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8
repose
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v.(使)休息;n.安息 | |
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9
jealousy
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n.妒忌,嫉妒,猜忌 | |
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10
distil
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vt.蒸馏;提取…的精华,精选出 | |
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11
standing
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n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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12
bent
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n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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13
likeness
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n.相像,相似(之处) | |
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14
wavy
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adj.有波浪的,多浪的,波浪状的,波动的,不稳定的 | |
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15
sinister
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adj.不吉利的,凶恶的,左边的 | |
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16
pang
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n.剧痛,悲痛,苦闷 | |
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17
accomplished
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adj.有才艺的;有造诣的;达到了的 | |
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18
villain
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n.反派演员,反面人物;恶棍;问题的起因 | |
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19
mutual
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adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
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20
betrothed
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n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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21
soothed
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v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 );抚慰;使舒服;减轻痛苦 | |
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22
cannon
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n.大炮,火炮;飞机上的机关炮 | |
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23
throbbed
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抽痛( throb的过去式和过去分词 ); (心脏、脉搏等)跳动 | |
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24
awakened
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v.(使)醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 );(使)觉醒;弄醒;(使)意识到 | |
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25
soothing
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adj.慰藉的;使人宽心的;镇静的 | |
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26
respite
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n.休息,中止,暂缓 | |
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27
fatigue
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n.疲劳,劳累 | |
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