"This simple nature reasons more wisely than all the bachelors with whom we conversed at Barcelona."
He was anxious to know if he could gain any information respecting his son John. It was a weight that oppressed him. He enquired if his host had heard speak of some young people, who had made a great noise in the neighborhood.
"Indeed I have," said he, "I received them in my house; and they were so satisfied with the reception I gave them, that they have carried away one of my daughters."
Judge of my friend's distress at this intelligence. In his emotion, he could not avoid exclaiming:
"What! Has my son run away with your daughter?"
"Good Englishman," said the host, "do not let that grieve you. I am glad to find he is your son. He is handsome, well made, and seems courageous. He did not run away with my dear Parouba; for you must know that Parouba is her name, because it is mine. Had he taken off Parouba, it would have been a robbery; and my five sons, who are now hunting some forty or fifty miles from here, would not have endured such an affront. It is a great sin to thieve. My daughter went of her own accord with these young people. She has gone to see the country, a pleasure one cannot deny to one of her age. These travelers will bring her back to me before a month is passed. I am sure of it. They promised to do so."
These words would have made me laugh, had not the evident distress of my friend severely afflicted me.
In the evening, just as we were about to start to take advantage of the wind, one of Parouba's sons arrived out of breath, his face expressing horror and despair.
"What is the matter, my son? I thought you were hunting far away. Are you wounded by some savage beast?"
"No, father,—not wounded, yet in pain."