“Our convalescence was very long indeed,” said Relempago; “at last our health was sufficiently restored to permit of us leaving the isle of Negros, where the Infant Jesus had so miraculously caused us to land, and we came to settle here, on the side of this large lake, which, being situated in the interior of the isle of Luçon, afforded me the means of pursuing my avocation of fisherman without in any way fearing the Malays, who might very easily have captured us again at Zébou.
“My first care—yes, the dearest act of my life—on arriving, was to have our marriage celebrated in the church of Moron. I had promised it to God, and I would not fail in the promise I had made Him who reads all hearts. After that I built the little cottage you see hard-by, and my existence glided on most peacefully. The fishing trade went on prosperously. I was still a young man, active and intelligent, and sold my fish very easily to the vessels passing through the strait. My son had by this time become a fine young man.”
“Of course he resembled his father,” said I, recollecting the beginning of the old man’s tale, but my remark could not excite a smile upon his countenance.
“Oh! the lad was a good fisherman,” continued he, “and happily did we all three live together, till a dreadful misfortune befell us. The Infant Jesus had no doubt forsaken us, or perhaps the Almighty was displeased with us; but I am far from murmuring. He has visited us most severely, since He has overwhelmed us with grief of such a strong nature, that it must accompany us to our last resting-place!”
And here the poor old man’s tears trickled down his weather-beaten cheeks once more, in abundance, in bitterness, and in sorrow.
Ah! how right was the Italian poet, when he said:—
“Nought lasteth here below but tears!”
The voice of Relempago was stifled by his sobbing; however, he made one more effort, and continued thus:
“One night—a fine moonlight night—we set our nets in a certain part of the strait, and as we felt some difficulty in drawing them up, the lad plunged into the water to ascertain what obstacle we had to contend with, and to set all to rights. I was in my pirogue, leaning over the side, waiting for his return, when all of a sudden I thought I saw, through the silvery beams of the lamp of night, a large spot of blood spreading itself over the surface of the water. Fear took possession of me, and I quickly hauled up my nets. My hapless child had seized upon and become entangled in them—but, alas! when he came to the surface he was a corpse!”
“What! your son?” cried I.