Oh, that the dream could have lasted forever. I have been living my life over again. I have seen and conversed with my darling Amy. Again I went to the Callicoon, and again saw that mad stream. I saw the raft, with mother, child and dog rush madly on. I saw them land, and carry their lifeless forms to the shore. I saw the mother buried on the bank, and Amy strew her grave with flowers. I heard her say, “I did, I shall, I ever will love Walter Wallace.” I saw a young man there with a mark on his breast of an anchor and ship. (Captain Davis started.) I saw a great, good, wise Indian. They called him Cahoonshee. (Captain Davis turned pale.) I saw Amy in the hands of the Indians. I awoke. It was a dream, a dream only. I was conscious that I was on board the Reindeer, rolling and rocking on the ocean, and the Captain and his wife watching over me, when suddenly Amy appeared again. I am not asleep now. I am awake. I am conscious of all that passes before me. I know that I see Amy. I extend my hand and say “Amy,” she vanishes. She is gone. The rest of you remain. I see you, why don’t I see her? It was a delusion, my boy. No, mother, it was no delusion. It was no dream. She was here—either in body or spirit. She is here now. I feel her influence. There is a lady on board, but not the Amy you speak of. It is a Miss Powers. Miss Powers? exclaimed Walter. That is her, Amy Powers, my long lost Amy! Cora stood in her state room door, and heard all that Walter had said. She recollected the proffered hand, and of his mentioning the name of Amy. She was satisfied that Walter had seen her and taken her for Amy, the love of his boyhood. Her position was embarrassing. Could it be possible that she and Amy looked so much alike that Walter had seen in her the exact counterpart of the image of his Amy? She beckoned the Captain to her and told him of her suspicions and her reasons. Shall I make myself known to him at once and drive away this delusion? Shall I tell him that I am his aunt and not his Amy? I think so, replied the Captain. He seems to be perfectly rational, and the sooner he is convinced of his mistake, the better. I will arrange my toilet and meet him, replied Cora. There were some things said by Walter that deeply interested the Captain and his wife. The mentioning of the anchor and ship on the breast of the young man he saw in company of the Indian Cahoonshee struck deep into his heart. This was a perfect description of his long lost child. The state room door opens, and in comes Cora dressed in the same attire she wore when she was addressed by Walter. She approached the bed. His eyes caught her. He sprang from the bed, threw his arms around her exclaiming: Found at last! My long, lost love, Amy. Now I am rewarded for a life of toil and anxiety. Look into my eyes, Amy, and tell me that you never forgot your Walter. Tell me of the sweet hours we passed on the Callicoon. Tell me, oh tell me, can I yet call you mine?