Paul and Virginia by Bernadin de Saint-Pierre
page 28 of 104 (26%)
page 28 of 104 (26%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
ridges of which several fires were lighted. Scarcely had they begun to
ascend, when they heard voices crying out, 'Is it you, my children?' They answered together with the negroes, 'Yes, it is us;' and soon after perceived their mothers and Mary coming towards them with lighted sticks in their hands. 'Unhappy children!' cried Madame de la Tour, 'from whence do you come? What agonies you have made us suffer!' 'We come, said Virginia, 'from the Black River, where we went to ask pardon for a poor Maroon slave, to whom I gave our breakfast this morning, because she was dying of hunger; and these Maroon negroes have brought us home.'--Madame de la Tour embraced her daughter without being able to speak; and Virginia, who felt her face wet with her mother's tears, exclaimed, 'You repay me for all the hardships I have suffered.' Margaret, in a transport of delight, pressed Paul in her arms, crying, 'And you also, my dear child! you have done a good action.' When they reached the hut with their children, they gave plenty of food to the negroes, who returned to their woods, after praying the blessing of heaven might descend on those good white people. "Every day was to those families a day of tranquillity and of happiness. Neither ambition nor envy disturbed their repose. In this island, where, as in all the European colonies, every malignant anecdote is circulated with avidity, their virtues, and even their names, were unknown. Only when a traveller on the road of the Shaddock Grove inquired of any of the inhabitants of the plain, 'Who lives in those two cottages above?' he was always answered, even by those who did not know them, 'They are good people.' Thus the modest violet, concealed beneath the thorny bushes, sheds its fragrance, while itself remains unseen. "Doing good appeared to those amiable families to be the chief purpose of life. Solitude, far from having blunted their benevolent feelings, or rendered their dispositions morose, had left their hearts open to every |
|