ours and
surrounded by the most considerate affection and respect, I grew up to
adore her, and when the time came, received her last sigh upon my lips,
still ignorant that she was a slave and alas! my father's mistress. Her
death, which befell me in my sixteenth year, was the first sorrow I had
known: it left our home bereaved of its attractions, cast a shade of
melancholy on my youth, and wrought in my father a tragic and durable
change. Months went by: with the elasticity of my years, I regained some
of the simple mirth that had before distinguished me; the plantation
smiled with fresh crops; the negroes on the estate had already forgotten
my mother and transferred their simple obedience to myself; but still
the cloud only darkened on the brows of Senor Valdevia. His absences
from home had been frequent even in the old days, for he did business in
precious gems in the city of Havana; they now became almost continuous;
and when he returned, it was but for the night and with the manner of a
man crushed down by adverse fortune.

The place where I was born and passed my days was an isle set in the
Caribbean Sea, some half-hour's rowing from the coasts of Cuba. It was
steep, rugged, and, except for my father's family and plantation,
uninhabited and left to nature. The house, a low building surrounded by
spacious verandahs, stood upon a rise of ground and looked across the
sea to Cuba. The breezes blew about it gratefully, fanned us as we lay
swinging in our silken hammocks, and tossed the boughs and flowers of
the magnolia. Behind and to the left, the quarter of the negroes and the
waving fields of the plantation covered an eighth part of the surface of
the isle. On the right and closely bordering on the garden, lay a vast
and deadly swamp, densely covered with wood, breathing fever, dotted
with profound sloughs, and inhabited by poisonous oysters, man-eating
crabs, snakes, alligators, and sickly fishes. Into the recesses of that
jungle none could penetrate but those of African descent; an invisible,
unconquerable foe lay there in wait for the European; and the air was
death.

One morning (from which I must date the beginning of my ruinous
misfortune) I left my room a little after day, for in that warm climate
all are early risers, and found not a servant to attend upon my wants. I
made the circuit of the house, still calling; and my surprise had almost
changed into alarm, when, coming at last into a large verandahed cour