ould look at me with a certain complaisant
air, and seemed to find me to their liking."

I could not but smile at this frank avowal of the old man, which he
perceiving, continued:

"I tell you these things, sir," replied he, "because at my age
one can speak of them without fearing to appear ridiculous--it is
so long ago. And besides, allow me to inform you that I relate to
you such things, not from vanity--Oh, no! but merely to furnish you
with an exact recital. Besides, the sly and roguish looks that young
girls threw at me, as I passed through the village, flattered me in
no manner. I was in love with Theresa, sir; yes, I was passionately
in love with her, and my love was returned, for fondly did she love
me; a look from any other but from her was totally indifferent to
me. Ah! Theresa was the prettiest lass in the village! but, poor
soul! she has done like myself--she has greatly altered; for years
are an enormous weight, which bends and breaks you down in spite of
yourself, and against which there is no way of struggling.

"When, seated as I am at present, I bethink me of the fine by-gone days
of my youth--of the strength, the courage, that we used to find in our
mutual affection--Oh! I shed tears of regret and sensibility. Where
are now those fine--those happy days? Gone, gone, gone! they have
fled before the piercing and terrible winds that forerun the storms
and the hurricanes. Like the day, life has its dawn; like the day,
also, it has its decline!"

Here the poor old fisherman made a pause, and I was loth to interrupt
him in his meditation. There then ensued a profound silence, that
lasted several minutes. Suddenly Relempago seemed to start from a
dream, and passing his hand over his forehead, looked at us for some
time, as if to excuse himself for those few moments of mental absence,
and then he continued as follows:

"We had been brought up together," said he, "and had been affianced as
soon as we had grown up. Theresa would have died rather than belong to
any other, and, as I shall hereafter prove it, I would have accepted
any condition, even the most unfavourable one, rather than abandon the
friend of my heart. Alas! it is almost always with our tears that we
trace our painful way through life. Theresa's relations were opposed
to our union; they even put forward vain and frivolous pretexts;
and whatever efforts I made to bring them to decide upon bestowing
her affianced hand on me, I never could succe