348 NIMROD OF THE SEA; OM, 



chance. In Moscow I had a favorite dream resort. A 

 quaint, unusual structure, with arched brick gate-ways and 

 paved courts, was visited so often that the face of mine host 

 grew familiar to me, and the arched doors swung open at 

 my bidding. 



But there was one dream which rose to the dignity of 

 an inspired vision, and which imperatively shaped an after 

 happy life. This air-drawn picture I will sketch, and, with 

 its sequel, leave to the philosopher, doubter, or dreamer to 

 reconcile the strange coincidences. It occurred at a period 

 in our voyage when thoughts were somewhat homeward- 

 bound, and anxious forecastings of the future occupied wak- 

 ing moments at mast-head, the helm, and the nightwatch. 

 Reviewing the past, the dangers and temptations which be- 

 set our careless lives, the impression grew that, alone and 

 unaided, I might yield and fall by the wayside ; that safety 

 lay in the pledge of love and honor to some one worthy of 

 my love ; that, unmarried, I must not again tread the path 

 before me. Then a great despair settled as a cloud, and ob- 

 scured my way of life. For who, among the women I could 

 cherish, would accept the hand of the wanderer? What 

 would I ask of her? Weeks only of wedded life, with 

 years of bondaged widowhood not a tempting boon to lay 

 at the feet of true womanhood. Yet none but the truest 

 might hope to hold the errant sailor to the path of recti- 

 tude. Such was my unrest, when the spirit of dreams came 

 to my aid, and brought peace on its wings. 



In the visions of the night I stood in an unremembered 

 room, and with me was a woman, the seeming of my future 

 partner in life. The consciousness of the time which must 

 elapse before we could meet was perfect, and the dreamer 

 asked, " By what token may I know you ?" Then she wrote 

 on a paper, and threw it to me, saying, " By this shalt thou 

 surely know me !" And the vision faded. When I awoke, 



