mind was undisturbed as to the character of the people with
whom his lot was cast for several months.

It was only his miserable wounded body, that the vessel was carrying
to a new country. His heart and soul rested in the shady park of La
Verberie, beside his lovely Valentine. He took no note of the men around
him, but lived over again those precious hours of bliss beneath the old
tree on the banks of the Rhone, where his beloved had confided her heart
to his keeping, and sworn to love him forever.

And what would become of her now, poor child, when he was no longer
there to love, console, and defend her?

Happily, he had no time for sad reflections.

His every moment was occupied in learning the rough apprenticeship of a
sailor's life. All his energies were spent in bearing up under the heavy
burden of labor allotted to him. Being totally unaccustomed to manual
work, he found it difficult to keep pace with the other sailors, and for
the first week or two he was often near fainting at his post, from sheer
fatigue; but indomitable energy kept him up.

This was his salvation. Physical suffering calmed and deadened his
mental agony. The few hours relaxation granted him were spent in heavy
sleep; the instant his weary body touched his bunk, his eyes closed, and
no moment did he have to mourn over the past.

At rare intervals, when the weather was calm, and he was relieved
from his constant occupation of trimming the sails, he would anxiously
question the future, and wonder what he should do when this irksome
voyage was ended.

He had sworn that he would return before the end of three years, rich
enough to satisfy the exactions of Mme. de la Verberie. How should he be
able to keep this boastful promise? Stern reality had convinced him
that his projects could never be realized, except by hard work and
long waiting. What he hoped to accomplish in three years was likely to
require a lifetime.

Judging from the conversation of his companions, he was not now on the
road to fortune.

The Tom Jones set sail for Valparaiso, but certainly went in a
roundabout way to reach her destination.

The real fact was, that Captain Warth proposed visiting the Gulf of
Guinea.

A friend of his, the "Black Prince," he said, with a loud laugh, was
waiting for him at Badagri, to exchange a cargo of "_ebony_" for some
pipes of rum, and a hundred flint-lock muskets which were on board the
Tom Jones.

Gaston soon saw that he was servi