rs to God all
together in the cottage of Madame de la Tour, the roof of which cracked
fearfully from the force of the winds. So incessant and vivid were the
lightnings, that although the doors and window-shutters were securely
fastened, every object without could be distinctly seen through
the joints in the wood-work! Paul, followed by Domingo, went with
intrepidity from one cottage to another, notwithstanding the fury of the
tempest; here supporting a partition with a buttress, there driving in
a stake; and only returning to the family to calm their fears, by the
expression of a hope that the storm was passing away. Accordingly, in
the evening the rains ceased, the trade-winds of the southeast pursued
their ordinary course, the tempestuous clouds were driven away to the
northward, and the setting sun appeared in the horizon.

Virginia's first wish was to visit the spot called her Resting-place.
Paul approached her with a timid air, and offered her the assistance
of his arm; she accepted it with a smile, and they left the cottage
together. The air was clear and fresh: white vapours arose from the
ridges of the mountain, which was furrowed here and there by the courses
of torrents, marked in foam, and now beginning to dry up on all
sides. As for the garden, it was completely torn to pieces by deep
water-courses, the roots of most of the fruit trees were laid bare, and
vast heaps of sand covered the borders of the meadows, and had choked
up Virginia's bath. The two cocoa trees, however, were still erect, and
still retained their freshness; but they were no longer surrounded by
turf, or arbours, or birds, except a few amadavid birds, which, upon the
points of the neighbouring rocks, were lamenting, in plaintive notes,
the loss of their young.

At the sight of this general desolation, Virginia exclaimed to
Paul,--"You brought birds hither, and the hurricane has killed them.
You planted this garden, and it is now destroyed. Every thing then
upon earth perishes, and it is only Heaven that is not subject to
change."--"Why," answered Paul, "cannot I give you something that
belongs to Heaven? but I have nothing of my own even upon the earth."
Virginia with a blush replied, "You have the picture of Saint Paul."
As soon as she had uttered the words, he flew in quest of it to his
mother's cottage. This picture was a miniature of Paul the Hermit, which
Margaret, who viewed it with feelings of great devotion, had worn at her
neck w