pressed Madame de la Tour in his arms, exclaiming, 'Neither will I leave
you! I will not go to the Indies. We will all labour for you, my dear
mother; and you shall never feel any wants with us.' But of the whole
society, the person who displayed the least transport, and who probably
felt the most, was Virginia; and, during the remainder of the day, that
gentle gaiety which flowed from her heart, and proved that her peace was
restored, completed the general satisfaction.
"The next day, at sunrise, while they were offering up, as usual, their
morning sacrifice of praise, which preceded their breakfast, Domingo
informed them that a gentleman on horseback, followed by two slaves, was
coming towards the plantation. This person was Monsieur de la Bourdonnais.
He entered the cottage where he found the family at breakfast. Virginia had
prepared, according to the custom of the country, coffee and rice boiled in
water: to which she added hot yams and fresh cocoas. The leaves of the
plantain tree supplied the want of table-linen; and calbassia shells, split
in two, served for utensils. The governor expressed some surprise at the
homeliness of the dwelling: then, addressing himself to Madame de la Tour,
he observed, that although public affairs drew his attention too much from
the concerns of individuals, she had many claims to his good offices. 'You
have an aunt at Paris, Madam,' he added, 'a woman of quality, and immensely
rich, who expects that you will hasten to see her, and who means to bestow
upon you her whole fortune.' Madame de la Tour replied, that the state of
her health would not permit her to undertake so long a voyage. 'At least,'
resumed Monsieur de la Bourdonnais, 'you cannot, without injustice, deprive
this amiable young lady, your daughter, of so noble an inheritance. I will
not conceal from you that your aunt has made use of her influence to oblige
you to return; and that I have received official letters, in which I am
ordered to exert my authority, if necessary, to that effect. But, as I only
wish to employ my power for the purpose of rendering the inhabitants of
this colony happy, I expect from your good sense the voluntary sacrifice of
a few years, upon which depend your daughter's establishment in the world,
and the welfare of your whole life. Wherefore do we come to these islands?
Is it not to acquire a fortune? And will it not be more agreeable to return
and find it in your own country?'
"He then placed a great bag of piastres, which had been brought hither by
one of his slaves, upon the table. 'This,' added he, 'is allotted by your
aunt for the preparations necessary for the young lady's voyage.' Gently
reproaching Madame de la Tour for not having had recourse to him in her
difficulties, he extolled at the same time her noble fortitude. Upon this,
Paul said to the governor, 'My mother did, address herself to you, Sir, and
you received her ill.'--'Have you another child, Madam? said Monsieur de la
Bourdonnais to Madame de la Tour.--'No, Sir,' she replied: 'this is the
child of my friend; but he and Virginia are equally dear to us.' 'Young
man,' said the governor to Paul, 'when you have acquired a little more
experience of the world, you will know that it is the misfortune of people
in place to be deceived and thence to bestow upon intriguing vice that
which belongs to modest merit.'
"Monsieur de la Bourdonnais, at the request of Madame de la Tour, placed
himself next her at the table, and breakfasted in the manner of the
Creoles, upon coffee mixed with rice boiled in water. He was delighted with
the order and neatness which prevailed in the little cottage, the harmony
of the two interesting families, and the zeal of their old servants.
'Here,' exclaimed he, 'I discern only wooden furniture, but I find serene
contenances, and hearts of gold.' Paul, enchanted with the affability of
the governor, said to him, 'I wish to be your friend; you are a good man.'
Monsieur de la Bourdonnais received with pleasure this insular compliment,
and, taking Paul by the hand, assured him that he might rely upon his
friendship.
"After breakfast, he took Madame de la Tour aside, and informed her that an
opportunity presented itself of sending her daughter to France in a ship
which was going to sail in a short time; that he would recommend her to a
lady a relation of his own, who would be a passenger; and that she must not
think of renouncing an immense fortune on account of bring separated from
her daughter a few years. 'Your aunt,'he added, 'cannot live more than two
years; of this I am assured by her friends. Think of it seriously. Fortune
does not visit us every day. Consult your friends. Every person of good
sense will be of my opinion.' She answered, 'that, desiring no other
happiness henceforth in the world than that of her daughter, she would
leave her departure for France entirely to her own inclination.
"Madame de la Tour was not sorry to find an opportunity of separating Paul
and Virginia for a short time, and provide, by this means, for their mutual
felicity at a future period. She took her daughter aside, and said to her,
'My dear child, our servants are now old. Paul is still very young;
Margaret is advanced in years, and I am already infirm. If I should die,
what will become of you, without fortune, in the midst of these deserts?
You will then be left alone without any person who can afford you much
succour, and forced to labour without ceasing, in order to support your
wretched existence. This idea fills my soul with sorrow.' Virginia
answered, 'God has appointed us to labour. You have taught me to labour,
and to bless him every day. He never has forsaken us, he never will forsake
us. His providence peculiarly watches the unfortunate. You have told me
this often my dear mother! I cannot resolve to leave you.' Madame de la
Tour replied, with much emotion, 'I have no other aim than to render you
happy, and to marry you one day to Paul, who is not your brother. Reflect
at present that his fortune depends upon you.'
"A young girl who loves believes that all the world is ignorant of her
passion; she throws over her eyes the veil which she has thrown over her
heart; but when it is lifted up by some cherishing hand, the secret
inquietudes of passion suddenly burst their bounds, and the soothing
overflowings of confidence succeed that reserve and mystery with which the
oppressed heart had enveloped its feelings. Virginia, deeply affected by
this new proof of her mother's tenderness, related to her how cruel had
been those struggles which Heaven alone had witnessed; declared that she
saw the succour of Providence in that of an affectionate mother, who
approved of her attachment, and would guide her by her counsels; that,
being now strengthened by such support, every consideration led her to
remain with her mother, without anxiety for the present, and without
apprehensions for the future.
"Madame de la Tour, perceiving that this confidential conversation had
produced an effect altogether different from that which she expected, said,
'My dear child, I will not any more constrain your inclination: deliberate
at leisure, but conceal your feelings from Paul.'
"Towards evening, when Madame de la Tour and Virginia were again together,
their confessor, who was a missionary in the island, entered the room,
having been sent by the governor. 'My children,' he exclaimed, as he
entered, 'God be praised!' you are now rich. You can now listen to the kind
suggestion of your excellent hearts, and do good to the poor. I know what
Monsieur de la Bourdonnais has said to you, and what you have answered.
Your health, dear Madam, obliges you to remain here: but you, young lady,
are without excuse. We must obey the will of Providence; and we must also
obey our aged relations, even when they are unjust. A sacrifice is required
of you; but it is the order of God. He devoted himself for you: and you, in
imitation of his example, must devote yourself for the welfare of your
family. Your voyage to France will have a happy termination. You will
surely consent to go, my dear young lady.'
"Virginia, with downcast eyes, answered, trembling, 'If it be the command
of God, I will not presume to oppose it. Let the will of God be done!' said
she, weeping.
"The priest went away, and informed the governor of the success of his
mission. In the meantime Madame de la Tour sent Domingo to desire I would
come hither, that she might consult me upon Virginia's departure. I was of
opinion that she ought not to go. I consider it as a fixed principle of
happiness, that we ought to prefer the advantages of nature to those of
fortune; and never go in search of that at a distance, which we may find in
our own bosoms. But what could be expected from my moderate counsels,
opposed to the illusions of a splendid fortune; and my simple reasoning,
contradicted by the prejudices of the world, and an authority which Madame
de la Tour held sacred? This lady had only consulted me from a sentiment of
respect, and had, in reality, ceased to deliberate since she had heard the
decision of her confessor. Margaret herself, who, notwithstanding the
advantages she hoped for her son, from the possession of Virginia's
fortune, had hitherto opposed her departure, made no further objections. As
for Paul, ignorant of what was decided, and alarmed at the secret
conversation which Madame de la Tour held with her daughter, he abandoned
himself to deep melancholy. 'They are plotting something against my peace,'
cried he, 'since they are so careful of concealment.'
"A report having in the meantime been spread over the island, that fortune
had visited those rocks, we beheld merchants of all kinds climbing their
steep ascent, and displaying in those humble huts the richest stuffs of
India. The fine dimity of Gondelore; the handkerchiefs of Pellicate and
Mussulapatan; the plain, striped, and embroidered muslins of Decca, clear
as the day. Those merchants unrolled the gorgeous silks of China, white
satin damasks, others of grass-green, and bright red; rose-coloured
taffetas, a profusion of satins, pelongs, and gauze of Tonquin, some plain,
and some beautifully decorated with flowers; the soft pekins, downy like
cloth; white and yellow nankeens, and the calicoes of Madagascar.
"Madame de la Tour wished her daughter to purchase every thing she liked;
and Virginia made choice of whatever she believed would be agreeable to her
mother, Margaret, and her son. 'This,' said she, 'will serve for furniture,
and that will be useful to Mary and Domingo.' In short, the bag of piastres
was emptied before she had considered her own wants; and she was obliged to
receive a share of the presents which she had distributed to the family
circle.
"Paul, penetrated with sorrow at the sight of those gifts of fortune, which
he felt were the presage of Virginia's departure, came a few days after to
my dwelling. With an air of despondency he said to me, 'My sister is going;
they are already making preparations for her voyage. I conjure you to come
and exert your influence over her mother and mine, in order to detain her
here.' I could not refuse the young man's solicitations, although well
convinced that my representations would be unavailing.
"If Virginia had appeared to me charming when clad in the blue cloth of
Bengal, with a red handkerchief tied round her head, how much was her
beauty improved, when decorated with the graceful ornaments worn by the
ladies of this country! She was dressed in white muslin, lined with
rose-coloured taffeta. Her small and elegant shape was displayed to
advantage by her corset, and the lavish profusion of her light tresses were
carelessly blended with her simple head-dress. Her fine blue eyes were
filled with an expression of melancholy: and the struggles of passion, with
which her heart was agitated, flushed her cheek, and gave her voice a tone
of emotion. The contrast between her pensive look and her gay habiliments
rendered her more interesting than ever, nor was it possible to see or hear
her unmoved. Paul became more and more melancholy; at length Margaret,
distressed by the situation of her son, took him aside, and said to him,
'Why, my dear son, will you cherish vain hopes, which will only render your
disappointment more bitter! It is time that I should make known to you the
secret of your life and of mine. Mademoiselle de la Tour belongs, by her
mother, to a rich and noble family, while you are but the son of a poor
peasant girl; and, what is worse, you are a natural child.'
"Paul, who had never before heard this last expression, inquired with
eagerness its meaning. His mother replied, 'You had no legitimate father.
When I was a girl, seduced by love, I was guilty of a weakness of which you
are the offspring. My fault deprived you of the protection of a father's
family, and my flight from home, of that of a mother's family. Unfortunate
child! you have no relation in the world but me!' And she shed a flood of
tears. Paul, pressing her in his arms, exclaimed, 'Oh, my dear mother!
since I have no relation in the world but you, I will love you still more!
But what a secret have you disclosed to me! I now see the reason why
Mademoiselle de la Tour has estranged herself from me for two months past,
and why she has determined to go. Ah! I perceive too well that she despises
me!'
"'The hour of supper being arrived, we placed ourselves at table; but the
different sensations with which we were all agitated left us little
inclination to eat, and the meal passed in silence. Virginia first went
out, and seated herself on the very spot where we now are placed. Paul
hastened after her, and seated himself by her side. It was one of those
delicious nights which are so common between the tropics, and the beauty of
which no pencil can trace. The moon appeared in the midst of the firmament,
curtained in clouds which her beams gradually dispelled. Her light
insensibly spread itself over the mountains of the island, and their peaks
glistened with a silvered green. The winds were perfectly still. We heard
along the woods, at the bottom of the valleys, and on the summits of the
rocks, the weak cry and the soft murmurs of the birds, exulting in the
brightness of the night, and the serenity of the atmosphere. The hum of
insects was heard in the grass. The stars sparkled in the heavens, and
their trembling and lucid orbs were reflected upon the bosom of the ocean.
Virginia's eyes wandered over its vast and gloomy horizon, distinguishable
from the bay of the island by the red fires in the fishing boat. She
perceived at the entrance of the harbour a light and a shadow: these were
the watch-light and the body of the vessel in which she was to embark for
Europe, and which, ready to set sail, lay at anchor, waiting for the wind.
Affected at this sight, she turned away her head, in order to hide her
tears from Paul.
"Madame de la Tour, Margaret, and myself were seated at a little distance
beneath the plantain trees; and amidst the stillness of the night we
distinctly heard their conversation, which I have not forgotten.
"Paul said to her, 'You are going, they tell me, in three days. You do not
fear, then, to encounter the danger of the sea, at which you are so much
terrified!' 'I must fulfil my duty,' answered Virginia, 'by obeying my
parent.' 'You leave us,' resumed Paul, 'for a distant relation, whom you
have never seen.' 'Alas!' cried Virginia, 'I would have remained my whole
life here, but my mother would not have it so. My confessor told me that it
was the will of God I should go, and that life was a trial!'
"'What,' exclaimed Paul, 'you have found so many reasons then for going,
and not one for remaining here! Ah! there is one reason for your departure,
which you have not mentioned. Riches have great attractions. You will soon
find in the new world, to which you are going, another to whom you will
give the name of brother, which you will bestow on me no more. You will
choose that brother from amongst persons who are worthy of you by their
birth, and by a fortune which I have not to offer. But where will you go in
order to be happier? On what shore will you land which will be dearer to
you than the spot which gave you birth? Where will you find a society more
interesting to you than this by which you are so beloved? How will you bear
to live without your mother's caresses, to which you are so accustomed?
What will become of her, already advanced in years, when she will no longer
see you at her side at table, in the house, in the walks where she used to
lean upon you? What will become of my mother who loves you with the same
affection? What shall I say to comfort them when I see them weeping for
your absence! Cruel! I speak not to you of myself; but what will become of
me, when in the morning I shall no more see you: when the evening will come
and will not reunite us? When I shall gaze on the two palm trees, planted
at our birth, and so long the witnesses of our mutual friendship? Ah; since
a new destiny attracts you, since you seek in a country, distant from your
own, other possessions than those which were the fruits of my labour, let
me accompany you in the vessel in which you are going to embark. I will
animate your courage in the midst of those tempests at which you are so
terrified even on shore. I will lay your head on my bosom. I will warm your
heart upon my own; and in France, where you go in search of fortune and of
grandeur, I will attend you as your slave. Happy only in your happiness,
you will find me in those palaces where I shall see you cherished and
adored, at least sufficiently noble to make for you the greatest of all
sacrifices, by dying at your feet.'
"The violence of his emotion stifled his voice, and we then heard that of
Virginia, which, broken by sobs, uttered these words: 'It is for you I go:
for you, whom I see every day bent beneath the labour of sustaining two
infirm families. If I have accepted this opportunity of becoming rich, it
is only to return you a thousandfold the good which you have done us. Is
there any fortune worthy of your friendship? Why do you talk to me of your
birth? Ah! if it were again possible to give me a brother, should I make
choice of any other than you? Oh, Paul! Paul! you are far dearer to me than
a brother! How much has it cost me to avoid you! Help me to tear myself
from what I value more than existence, till Heaven can bless our union. But
I will stay or go: I will live or die; dispose of me as you will. Unhappy,
that I am! I could resist your caresses, but I am unable to support your
affliction.'
"At these words Paul seized her in his arms, and, holding her pressed fast
to his bosom, cried, in a piercing tone, 'I will go with her; nothing shall
divide us.' We ran towards him, and Madame de la Tour said to him, 'My son,
if you go, what will become of us?'
"He, trembling, repeated the words, 'My son:--My son'--You my mother,'
cried he; 'you, who would separate the brother from the sister! We have
both been nourished at your bosom; we have both been reared upon your
knees; we have learnt of you to love each other; we have said so a thousand
times; and now you would separate her from me! You send her to Europe, that
barbarous country which refused you an asylum, and to relations by whom you
were abandoned. You will tell me that I have no right over her, and that
she is not my sister. She is everything to me, riches, birth, family, my
sole good; I know no other. We have had but one roof, one cradle, and we
will have but one grave. If she goes, I will follow her. The governor will
prevent me! Will he prevent me from flinging myself into the sea? Will he
prevent me from following her by swimming? The sea cannot be more fatal to
me than the land. Since I cannot live with her, at least I will die before
her eyes; far from you, inhuman mother! woman without compassion! May the
ocean, to which you trust her, restore her to you no more! May the waves,
rolling back our corpses amidst the stones of the beach, give you, in the
loss of your two children, an eternal subject of remorse!'
"At these words I seized him in my arms, for despair had deprived him of
reason. His eyes flashed fire, big drops of sweat hung upon his face, his
knees trembled, and I felt his heart beat violently against his burning
bosom.
"Virginia, affrighted, said to him, 'Oh, my friend, I call to witness the
pleasures of our early age, your sorrow and my own, and every thing that
can forever bind two unfortunate beings to each other, that if I remain, I
will live but for you; that if I go, I will one day return to be yours. I
call you all to witness, you who have reared my infancy, who dispose of my
life, who see my tears. I swear by that Heaven which hears me, by the sea
which I am going to pass, by the air I breathe, and which I never sullied
by a falsehood.'
"As the sun softens and dissolves an icy rock upon the summit of the
Apennines, so the impetuous passions of the young man were subdued by the
voice of her he loved. He bent his head, and a flood of tears fell from his
eyes. His mother, mingling her tears with his, held him in her arms, but
was unable to speak. Madame de la Tour, half distracted, said to me, 'I can
bear this no longer. My heart is broken. This unfortunate Voyage shall not
take place. Do take my son home with you. It is eight days since any one
here has slept.'
"I said to Paul, 'My dear friend, your sister will remain. To-morrow we
will speak to the governor; leave your family, to take some rest, and come
and pass the night with me.'
"He suffered himself to be led away in silence; and, after a night of great
agitation, he arose at break of day, and returned home.
"But why should I continue any longer the recital of this history? There is
never but one aspect of human life which we can contemplate with pleasure.
Like the globe upon which we revolve, our fleeting course is but a day: and
if one part of that day be visited by light, the other is thrown into
darkness."
"Father," I answered, "finish, I conjure you, the history which you have
begun in a manner so interesting. If the images of happiness are most
pleasing, those of misfortune are more instructive. Tell me what became of
the unhappy young man."
"The first object which Paul beheld in his way home was Mary, who, mounted
upon a rock, was earnestly looking towards the sea. As soon as he perceived
her, he called to her from a distance, 'Where is Virginia?' Mary turned her
head towards her young master, and began to weep. Paul, distracted, and
treading back his steps, ran to the harbour. He was there informed, that
Virginia had embarked at break of day, that the vessel had immediately
after set sail, and could no longer be discerned. He instantly returned to
the plantation, which he crossed without uttering a word.