We met as of old--it was Paul and Henry--and though
still the same restive, hot-headed spirit as he had ever been, he yet
always listened patiently to what I said, and I could, in a manner,
control him. He paid very little attention to his property, however, and
when he did go to the city to consult with his factor or trustee, he got
into some wild frolic, duel, and scrape, and came back worn out with
fatigue and dissipation. He was a fine, stern-looking youth in those
days, with great muscular power, which, even with the endurance put upon
it by gaming and drinking, seemed not to be lessened.

"After one of these visits to New Orleans, where his long-forbearing
agents had at last awakened him to a bitter sense of his delinquencies,
and when mortgage upon mortgage were laid with all their shocking truth
before him, he returned and came to me. With all his vices and faults,
he was truthful and generous. He told me all, and how he would try to do
better, and soothe the declining years of his too indulgent mother.

"I always had great faith in the companion almost of my cradle, and I
loved him, I think, better than my own brothers. Well, he spread all his
affairs before me, and in my little den of an outhouse on the plantation
we both went systematically over the papers. We were two days and nights
at the business; and when, at last, I showed him that he would still,
with a little prudent economy, have a fair income, and eventually,
perhaps, redeem his hereditary property, he burst out in a wild yell of
delight, and hugged me in his arms. When he had put away the papers, I
said,

"'Paul, you know I am engaged to be married, and I have not seen my
sweetheart for two whole days; she has a sister, too, prettier than my
Fifine, whom you have never seen since we were boys together. Come, will
you go with me? We can pull ourselves across the river.'

"He hesitated; and it would have been, perhaps, better had he refused to
accompany me, for dreadful misery came of it."

The commodore gave a deep sigh, and touched his horse with the spur.

"I don't know, though, Piron; there is a fate marked out for us all, and
we should not exclaim against the decrees of Providence. Paul went with
me across the river. There, on the bank, was a little bower of an old
French-built stone house, where dwelt the last of a line of French
nobility who dated back to the days of Charlemagne. It was an
impoverished family, consisting of a reckless bro