the doors and window-shutters were well fastened, every object without was
distinctly seen through the jointed beams. Paul, followed by Domingo, went
with intrepidity from one cottage to another, notwithstanding the fury of
the tempest; here supporting a partition with a buttress, there driving in
a stake, and only returning to the family to calm their fears, by the hope
that the storm was passing away. Accordingly, in the evening the rains
ceased, the trade-winds of the south pursued their ordinary course, the
tempestuous clouds were thrown towards the north-east, and the setting sun
appeared in the horizon.

"Virginia's first wish was to visit the spot called her _Repose_. Paul
approached her with a timid air, and offered her the assistance of his arm,
which she accepted, smiling, and they left the cottage together. The air
was fresh and clear; white vapours arose from the ridges of the mountains,
furrowed here and there by the foam of the torrents, which were now
becoming dry. The garden was altogether destroyed by the hollows which the
floods had worn, the roots of the fruit trees were for the most part laid
bare, and vast heaps of sand covered the chain of meadows, and choked up
Virginia's bath. The two cocoa trees, however, were still erect, and still
retained their freshness: but they were no longer surrounded by turf, or
arbours, or birds, except a few amadavid birds, who, upon the points of the
neighbouring rocks, lamented, in plaintive notes, the loss of their young.

"At the sight of this general desolation, Virginia exclaimed to Paul, 'You
brought birds hither, and the hurricane has killed them. You planted this
garden, and it is now destroyed. Every thing then upon earth perishes, and
it is only heaven that is not subject to change.' 'Why,' answered Paul,
'why cannot I give you something which belongs to heaven? but I am
possessed of nothing even upon earth.' Virginia, blushing, resumed, 'You
have the picture of Saint Paul.' Scarcely had she pronounced the words,