left the
slaver the moment he possessed a little capital with which to enter some
honest business.

But he was no longer the high-minded, pure-hearted Gaston, who had
so devotedly loved and perilled his life for the little fairy of La
Verberie.

It is useless to deny that evil examples are pernicious to morals.
The most upright characters are unconsciously influenced by bad
surroundings. As the exposure to rain, sun, and sea-air first darkened
and then hardened his skin, so did wicked associates first shock and
then destroy the refinement and purity of Gaston's mind. His heart
had become as hard and coarse as his sailor hands. He still remembered
Valentine, and sighed for her presence; but she was no longer the sole
object of affection, the one woman in the world to him. Contact with sin
had lowered his standard of women.

The three years, after which he had pledged himself to return, had
passed; perhaps Valentine was expecting him. Before deciding on any
definite project, he wrote to an intimate friend at Beaucaire to learn
what had happened during his long absence. He expressed great anxiety
about his family and neighbors.

He also wrote to his father, asking why he had never answered the many
letters which he had sent to him by returning sailors, who would have
safely forwarded the replies.

At the end of a year, he received an answer from his friend.

The letter almost drove him mad.

It told him that his father was dead; that his brother had left France,
Valentine was lately married, and that he, Gaston, had been sentenced to
ten years' imprisonment for murder.

Henceforth he was alone in the world; with no country, no family, no
home, and disgraced by a public sentence.

Valentine was married, and he had no object in life! He would hereafter
have faith in no one, since she, Valentine, had cast him off, forgotten
him. What could he expect of others, when she had broken her troth, had
lacked the courage to keep her promise and wait for him?--she, whom he
had so trusted.

In his despair, he almost regretted the Tom Jones. Yes, he sighed for
the wicked slaver crew, his life of excitement and peril. The dangers
and triumphs of those bold pirates whose only care was to heap up money
would have been preferable to his present wretchedness.

But Gaston was not a man to be long cast down.

"Money is the cause of it all!" he said with rage. "If the lack of money
can bring such misery, its possession must best