Chapter 5

"They accordingly asked my advice, and I was of their opinion. 'The Indian seas,' I observed to them, are calm, and, in choosing a favourable season, the voyage is seldom longer than six weeks. We will furnish Paul with a little venture in my neighbourhood, where he is much beloved. If we were only to supply him with some raw cotton, of which we make no use, for want of mills to work it, some ebony, which is here so common, that it serves us for firing, and some resin, which is found in our woods: all those articles will sell advantageously in the Indies, though to us they are useless.'

"I engaged to obtain permission from Monsieur de la Bourdonnais to undertake this voyage: but I determined previously to mention the affair to Paul; and my surprise was great, when this young man said to me, with a degree of good sense above his age, 'And why do you wish me to leave my family for this precarious pursuit of fortune? Is there any commerce more advantageous than the culture of the ground, which yields sometimes fifty or a hundred fold? If we wish to engage in commerce, we can do so by carrying our superfluities to the town, without my wandering to the Indies. Our mothers tell me, that Domingo is old and feeble; but I am young, and gather strength every day. If any accident should happen during my absence, above all, to Virginia, who already suffers--Oh, no, no!--I cannot resolve to learn them.'

"This answer threw me into great perplexity, for Madame de la Tour had not concealed from me the situation of Virginia, and her desire of separating those young people for a few years. These ideas I did not dare to suggest to Paul.

"At this period, a ship, which arrived from France, brought Madame de la Tour a letter from her aunt. Alarmed by the terrors of approaching death, which could alone penetrate a heart so insensible, recovering from a dangerous disorder, which had left her in a state of weakness, rendered incurable by age, she desired that her niece would return to France; or, if her health forbade her to undertake so long a voyage, she conjured her to send Virginia, on whom she would bestow a good education, procure for her a splendid marriage, and leave her the inheritance of her whole fortune. The perusal of this letter spread general consternation through the family. Domingo and Mary began to weep. Paul, motionless with surprise, appeared as if his heart was ready to burst with indignation; while Virginia, fixing her eyes upon her mother, had not power to utter a word.

"'And can you now leave us?' cried Margaret to Madame de la Tour. 'No, my dear friend, no, my beloved children,' replied Madame de la Tour; 'I will not leave you. I have lived with you, and with you I will die. I have known no happiness but in your affection. If my health be deranged, my past misfortunes are the cause. My heart, deeply wounded by the cruelty of a relation, and the loss of my husband, has found more consolation and felicity with you beneath these humble huts, than all the wealth of my family could now give me in my own country.'

"At this soothing language every eye overflowed with tears of delight. Paul 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.