“I left the holy man with my heart joyful indeed, and I hastened to inform Theresa of the pastor’s consoling words: we rejoiced like two children together. Ah! true indeed it is to say that youth has been endowed by the Almighty with every privilege, particularly with that of hope. At the age of twenty if the heart think that it may live in hope, away with all cares immediately; and, as the morning breeze sips up the drops of moisture that have been left by the storm in the chalice of flowers, so does hope dry up the tears that moisten the eyes of the young, and drive away the sighs that inflate and oppress the breast. So sure were we that our tribulations would ere long be over, that we no longer thought of our by gone sorrow! In the spring-time of life grief leaves do more trace after it than the nimble foot of the wily Indian on the strand, when the sea-wind has blown over it.
“The inhabitants of the village, seeing us so joyful, so purely happy, were envious of our lot, and Theresa’s relations could no longer find any pretext for opposing our being united. We were now in full sight of connubial bliss; our boat of life was gently rocked by a very mild wind; we were singing the return-home hymn, not supposing, alas! that we were going to be dashed against a breaker! Our young Indians foresee not in the morning the storm that is to assail them in the evening. The buffalo cannot avoid the lasso, and most often, in order to avoid it, he anticipates the danger. I roved about, I may say heedlessly thoughtless of the precipice before my feet. Misfortune marked me for her own when I least expected it.
“One evening, on my return from fishing, at the moment when I was repairing to Theresa’s, there to repose myself after my fatigues of the day, I saw one of my neighbours advancing towards me. That man had always shown me the greatest affection, so that on seeing him thus advance, my limbs began to tremble, and the pulsations of my heart gradually ceased. His face was pale, and entirely altered. His haggard eyes threw forth flashes of terror, and his voice was trembling and agitated.
“‘Los Moros[2] have made a descent upon the coast,’ said he to me.
“‘Good Heavens!’ exclaimed I, covering my face with my hands.
“‘They surprised some persons of the village, and carried them off prisoners.’
“‘And Theresa?’ exclaimed I.
“‘Carried off with the others,’ he replied.
“I heard no more of this revelation, and for some minutes—like the warrior pierced to the heart by a poisoned arrow—was completely deprived of all consciousness.
“When I came back to myself tears flooded my face, and brought me some relief: but suddenly I resumed my courage, and felt that no time was to be lost. I ran to the shore where I had left my pirogue, which I unfastened, and, as quickly as oars could pull me, I pursued the Malays, not in the hope of wresting Theresa from them, but resolved upon partaking of her captivity and misfortune. We better endure the sufferings we have to undergo when we are two together than when we are alone. He who had brought me the fatal tidings saw me start, and thought I had lost my senses; the fact is, my countenance bore all the traces of mental alienation. Methought I was inspired by the grand master-spirit; my pirogue bounded along the troubled waters of the ocean as if it possessed wings. One would have said that I had twenty rowers at my disposal, and I cleft the waves with the same rapidity as the halcyon’s flight, when wafted away by the hurricane. After a short time’s laborious and painful rowing I at last came in view of the corsairs who were carrying away my treasure. At the sight my strength was renewed again, and I was soon up with them. When I was side by side with them I informed them, in words the most feeling, and which sprang from my poor lacerated heart, that Theresa was my wife, and that I would prefer being a slave with her to abandoning her. The pirates listened to my voice, stifled by my tears, and took me on board, not from commiseration, but from cruelty. In fact, I was a slave more added to their numbers: why should they have repulsed me? A few days after that fatal evening we arrived at Jolo. There the division of the slaves was made, and the master into whose hands we fell took us away with him. Was it, then, to undergo a like destiny that I had dived so early in the morning for a pearl for the Infant Jesus of Zébou? Yes, was it for this that I had made a vow to bring him the first pearl I should find? Notwithstanding my profound sorrow I murmured not, neither did I regret my offering. The Lord was the master! His will should be done.”