not one for remaining here! Ah! there is one reason for your departure
that 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 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 can you go
to be happier? On what shore will you land, and find it dearer to you
than the spot which gave you birth?--and where will you form around you
a society more delightful to you than this, by which you are so much
accustomed? What will become of her, already advanced in years, when
she no longer sees 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 Virginia! I say nothing 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 not reunite us?--when
I shall gaze on these two palm trees, planted at our birth, and so
long the witnesses of our mutual friendship? Ah! since your lot is
changed,--since you seek in a far country other possessions than the
fruits of my labour, let me go with you in the vessel in which you
are about to embark. I will sustain your spirits in the midst of those
tempests which terrify you so much even on shore. I will lay my head
upon your bosom: I will warm your heart upon my own; and in France,
where you are going in search of fortune and of grandeur, I will wait
upon you as your slave. Happy only in your happiness, you will find
me, in those palaces where I shall see you receiving the homage and
adoration of all, rich and noble enough to make you the greatest of all
sacrifices, by dying at your feet."

The violence of his emotions stopped his utterance, and we then heard