h
rain, in the first fit of a fever; 'but woman,' said the sagacious
narrator, as he received a tumbler of grog from the steward, 'is a
mystery'--an opinion I am not inclined to confute.

In a few days, Giustiniani was well enough to return to his home,
which he reached in a gloomy and dissatisfied state of mind. He had
already observed that Bartuccio, who rode over every day professedly
to see him, felt in reality ill at ease in his company, spoke no
longer with copious familiarity, and left him in a few minutes,
professing to be obliged to return to his duty. From his bed, however,
he could hear him for some time after laughing and talking with Marie
in the garden; and he felt, without knowing it, all the pangs of
jealousy: not that he believed his friend would interfere and dispute
with him the possession of the gem which he had discovered, and over
which he internally claimed a right of property, but he was oppressed
with an uneasy sentiment of future ill, and tormented with a
diffidence as to his own powers of pleasing, that made him say adieu
to Marie and her father with cold gratitude--that seemed afterwards to
them, and to him when reflection came, sheer ingratitude.

When he had completely recovered his strength, he recovered also to, a
certain extent his serenity of mind. Bartuccio was often with him, and
never mentioned the subject of Marie. One day, therefore, in a state
of mingled hope and love, he resolved to pay a visit to his kind host;
and set out on foot. The day was sunny; the landscape, though rugged,
beautiful with light; a balmy breeze played gently on his cheek. The
intoxication of returning strength filled him with confidence and joy.
He met the old doctor herborising a little way from his house, and
saluted him so cordially, that a hearty shake of the hand was added to
the cold bow with which he was at first received. Giustiniani
understood a little of botany, and pleased the old man by his
questions and remarks. They walked slowly towards the house together.
When they reached it, M. Brivard quietly remarked: 'You will find my
daughter in the garden,' and went in with the treasures he had
collected. The young man's heart bounded with joy. Now was the time.
He would throw himself at once at Marie's feet, confess the turbulent
passion she had excited, and receive from her lips his sentence of
happiness, or---- No, he would not consider the alternative; and with
bounding step and eager eye, he ra