behold a more affecting picture of grief. He was plainly
dressed; but one may discover at the first glance a man of birth
and education. As I approached him he rose, and there was so
refined and noble an expression in his eyes, in his whole
countenance, in his every movement, that I felt an involuntary
impulse to render him any service in my power. "I am unwilling
to intrude upon your sorrows," said I, taking a seat beside him,
"but you will, perhaps, gratify the desire I feel to learn
something about that beautiful girl, who seems little formed by
nature for the miserable condition in which she is placed."

He answered me candidly, that he could not communicate her
history without making himself known, and that he had urgent
reasons for preserving his own incognito. "I may, however, tell
you this much, for it is no longer a secret to these wretches,"
he continued, pointing to the guards,--"that I adore her with a
passion so ardent and absorbing as to render me the most unhappy
of human beings. I tried every means at Paris to effect her
liberty. Petitions, artifice, force--all failed. Go where
she may, I have resolved to follow her--to the extremity of the
world. I shall embark with her and cross to America.

"But think of the brutal inhumanity of these cowardly ruffians,"
he added, speaking of the guards; "they will not allow me to
approach her! I had planned an open attack upon them some
leagues from Paris; having secured, as I thought, the aid of four
men, who for a considerable sum hired me their services. The
traitors, however, left me to execute my scheme single-handed,
and decamped with my money. The impossibility of success made me
of course abandon the attempt, I then implored of the guards