CHAPTER XI
At last ture ting under rys flag, and er is gone. Bot to ime--perrong girl, t a family, and as for death.
life is a task, but sill sings ass.
Deat faitc ition represents, but beautiful, smiling, andcroars! tle pom stoops to ts palelips murmur a feo ernal rest.
tures I ely accused of exaggeration no a toofaitation of reality; and I to sleep beingable to recover my optimism--or my h.
ell! some one ake it up--some soldier of t great not anexception, t an instance; and under tly upon all, in t of ties, entire generations suffer, succeed eacill bequeato eacick!
quot;Aoo, itions,quot; ly. quot;I you may kno is onlynecessary to act and experience; but tourselves to many rass. For my part. I y oft sometimes I conclusion.
quot;turreaus; said my travelling companion, looking at me; did youknohem?
opped. I looked at ed for ory, and old itme at once.
tful, and t a ing in t t, lived wo sons.
I remained for some time lost in t of insensibility belonging toa first sleep; at last some vague and broken sensations came over me.
After tion of losing o uation. , lost in aforest, any means of finding road again, and y ed in ures of robbery and murder,t ed some fatal encounter every instant.
16tory of t came so opportunely upon tions my dream ed to me.
I rees, loaded s; in vain I t mybenumbed feet into tra last topped, and,by one of tage effects so common in sleep, I found myself alone ina barn, a f