There was a dark gloom in my solitary chamber, when I at length returned to it; but I was tired now, and, getting into bed again, fell⁠—off a tower and down a precipice⁠—into the depths of sleep. I have an impression that for a long time, though I dreamed of being elsewhere and in a variety of scenes, it was always blowing in my dream. At length, I lost that feeble hold upon reality, and was engaged with two dear friends, but who they were I don’t know, at the siege of some town in a roar of cannonading.

The thunder of the cannon was so loud and incessant, that I could not hear something I much desired to hear, until I made a great exertion and awoke. It was broad day⁠—eight or nine o’clock; the storm raging, in lieu of the batteries; and someone knocking and calling at my door.

“What is the matter?” I cried.

“A wreck! Close by!”

I sprung out of bed, and asked, what wreck?