opposite that of Madame C.'s, is prepared for me. I shall be there quite alone, and the excellent lady has made it as comfortable as it can be, with a bed, a chair, and a table. The wind blows straight through its walls of brushwood, on the side facing the sea, but then it is the wind of Cuba. There are no trees in the immediate neighbourhood—nothing but swampy, low meadow, and beyond that the great sea which extends, unbroken by rocks, into limitless distance. We are here on the southern side of the island, in a desolate region, inhabited alone by poor fishermen, for whom Madame C.'s residence among them makes the red-letter days of the year. The whole has the charm of novelty, and may do for a few days. I am almost sorry that I have come here, because I fear that I have caused a deal of inconvenience to the sea-bathing family. They are, however, too polite to wish me to perceive it, and I have determined to be contented with everything; and that is not difficult in this air. We fared sumptuously at a small table on the piazza of Madame C.'s palm-hut, and afterwards sate talking by star-light in the mild sea-wind, as I have not talked for a long time, on interesting periods in history, in Swedish history among the rest, for this intellectual lady and her well-educated sons are perfectly acquainted with its main features.
It was near midnight, when, with the aid of a faithful old servant, I reached the other side of the river by means of a crazy old bridge; it blew strongly from the sea, and the waves roared very much. The southern Cross, with its glory of Centaur's stars, and the magnificent star in the ship Argo, Canopus, stood bright above the sea in the southern heavens; I greeted them, and crept into my hut. The light was blown out; but the stars peeped in through the opening of the window which faced the sea. The curtain of the bed fanned and fluttered about in the wind; but it was the wind of Cuba. I lay down in my
