Chapter 32

CHAPTER 32
The Waking.

When Franz returned to himself, he seemed still to be in a
dream. He thought himself in a sepulchre, into which a ray
of sunlight in pity scarcely penetrated. He stretched forth
his hand, and touched stone; he rose to his seat, and found
himself lying on his bournous in a bed of dry heather, very
soft and odoriferous. The vision had fled; and as if the
statues had been but shadows from the tomb, they had
vanished at his waking. He advanced several paces towards
the point whence the light came, and to all the excitement
of his dream succeeded the calmness of reality. He found
that he was in a grotto, went towards the opening, and
through a kind of fanlight saw a blue sea and an azure sky.
The air and water were shining in the beams of the morning
sun; on the shore the sailors were sitting, chatting and
laughing; and at ten yards from them the boat was at anchor,
undulating gracefully on the water. There for some time he
enjoyed the fresh breeze which played on his brow, and
listened to the dash of the waves on the beach, that left
against the rocks a lace of foam as white as silver. He was
for some time without reflection or thought for the divine
charm which is in the things of nature, specially after a
fantastic dream; then gradually this view of the outer
world, so calm, so pure, so grand, reminded him of the
illusiveness of his vision, and once more awakened memory.
He recalled his arrival on the island, his presentation to a
smuggler chief, a subterranean palace full of splendor, an
excellent supper, and a spoonful of hashish. It seemed,
however, even in the very face of open day, that at least a
year had elapsed since all these things had passed, so deep
was the impression made in his mind by the dream, and so
strong a hold had it taken of his imagination. Thus every
now and then he saw in fancy amid the sailors, seated on a
rock, or undulating in the vessel, one of the shadows which
had shared his dream with looks and kisses. Otherwise, his
head was perfectly clear, and his body refreshed; he was
free from the slightest headache; on the contrary, he felt a
certain degree of lightness, a faculty for absorbing the
pure air, and enjoying the bright sunshine more vividly than
ever.

He went gayly up to the sailors, who rose as soon as they
perceived him; and the patron, accosting him, said, "The
Signor Sinbad has left his compliments for your excellency,
and desires us to express the regret he feels at not being
able to take his leave in person; but he trusts you will
excuse him, as very important business calls him to Malaga."

"So, then, Gaetano," said Franz, "this is, then, all
reality; there exists a man who has received