it long. Like
the shot propelled from the mouth of the cannon, which, in its extreme
velocity, is turned from the direction which has been given it by
glancing along the weakest substance, so was my course of life changed
from its direction by meeting with a woman.

My father had a good customer; he had shaved him every morning for
years, had extracted every tooth in his head, and was now winding up his
long account by bleeding him daily, under the direction of an ignorant
apothecary. I was often at the house--not to bleed him, for my father
either thought him too valuable, or was too grateful for past favours to
trust him in my hands;--but I held the basin, procured water, and
arranged the bandages. He had a daughter, a lovely girl, whom I adored
in secret; but her rank in life was too far above mine to allow me to
express my feelings. I was then a handsome young man, although Time has
since exerted his utmost, through jealousy, to make me appear almost as
old and ill-favoured as himself. The young lady took a fancy to me,
complained of the toothache, and asked for remedies. I offered to
extract the tooth; but either having heard of my reputation, or not
wishing to remove the excuse for our interviews, or, what is still more
probable, having no toothache whatever, she would not consent.

The death of her mother, which had taken place when she was a child, had
left her without guidance,--and the helpless situation of her father,
without protection. Naturally of a warm temperament, and yielding to the
impulse of her feelings, she carried on an intimacy which could only end
in her disgrace; and, at the expiration of a year, her situation could
no longer be concealed. I was now in a dilemma. She had two brothers in
the army, who were returning home, and I dreaded their vengeance. I
loved her very much, but I loved myself more; so, one evening, I packed
up all that I could call my own, and all that I could lay my hands on
belonging to my honoured parent, and shipped on board a Genoese vessel,
which was then standing out of the harbour. She was a large ship,
mounting twelve long guns, with a complement of sixty men; being what is
termed in European countries a "letter of marque." This implies that she
fights her way without convoy, capturing any of the enemy's vessels she
may happen to fall in with, who are not strong enough to resist her. We
had cleared out for Genoa with a cargo of lead, which lay at the bottom
of the ho