But truly! and did Monsieur Campbell happen to know this Campbell,--he, the great Campbell, he who painted this picture divine which exhibited itself at the last Salon, and was entitled the 'Ruined Rampart'? Monsieur, even in blushing and being overwhelmed, assures Madame that he is that same fortunate Campbell whose unworthy effort Madame comes from qualifying with such generosity. Great God! Monsieur is he, then, indeed that sublime, that adored man of genius? What happy chance! What charming _rencontre_! But in this case Madame hopes that the name of the Countess Semaroff will be to Monsieur not altogether unfamiliar? Oh! Heaven! Is it possible that Monsieur is so happy as to kiss the hand of the noble lady who deigned to constitute herself the purchaser of the above-mentioned 'Ruined Rampart'? Monsieur is of a verity transported. The Countess Semaroff observes that Mademoiselle--the Countess Almara in effect--will partake of her mamma's enchantment in meeting Monsieur Campbell, of whose genius she is an ardent admirer. Our rude and artless talk was suspended at this point by the disembarkation of the Countess Almara. Apprehending that the simplicity of her costume might render my immediate presentation undesirable, I exchanged a cordial _au revoir_ with the Countess Semaroff and discreetly withdrew. The beautiful pagan, after exchanging a few sentences with her mother, the latter speaking earnestly and the former laughingly, proceeded to take her turn upon the diving-board, and acquitted herself in a manner truly admirable. She dove like a plummet, and her white feet flashed beneath the surface as succinctly as a mermaid's tail. Up she came again, fresh and dripping, within a few yards of my returned prodigal, the Boston poet; but no signal of recognition that I could detect passed between them. To suppose that the ardent and romantic Jefferson had failed to improve the occasion of being isolated from the world under such peculiar circumstances with the subject of his late rhapsodies seemed to me, however, highly improbable. But the young Countess had doubtless played discretion under the watchful maternal eye; and Jeff, perhaps, intended to conceal his escapade from my friendly inquisition. I was resolved nevertheless to penetrate his reticence, and promised myself the pleasure of listening to an entertaining story over our _déjeuner_. As to my own accidental introduction to the Countess mother, and the unexpected tie between us, I judged it advisable to forbear mentioning it just at present. The poet reached his depth and waded ashore. I stepped forward to meet him, raising my cap. 'Captain Webb, I presume?' 'Oh--but, Campbell!' exclaimed he with an ineffable look, 'was she not heavenly?' 'Postpone your ecstasies; you'll be a rheumatic cripple for life as it is. Do you know you've been in an hour?' 'It doesn't seem ten minutes--and yet I have lived a lifetime too!'