244 Mine Host’s Last Story. [ Mancu, 
and requested a half-hour’s conversation with me. We sat together, 
and, for a few minutes, neither epened his lips. At last he com- 
menced :— : 
. © My good friend,’ said he, ‘ I wished to see you thus by yourself; 
that I might have an opportunity of more fully expressing to you my 
gratitude for the many hospitable acts, and liberal feelings, that you have 
shewn to me for so long. If I do not see you again, be assured they 
are not thrown away upon one who cannot appreciate such kindness ; 
but if, by any exertion at any future season, I can shew more perfectly 
my sense of these obligations, trust me that I shall not feel towards you as 
foreigners, but as beings for ever connected with my happiest recollec- 
tions. I cannot hope to be remembered as I shall remember you, for 
you have around you hundreds who will, at any time, supply. my un- 
worthy place; but not in thé world shall I ever find a hearth so warm, 
and faces around it so kind to welcome me.’ 
“ He paused, evidently oppressed with the strength of his own excited 
feelings; and I was glad to seize the moment and ask, why he had 
so unseasonably come to distress me with something like a farewell 
speech ? 
“ He cast his eyes on the floor, and, in a troubled voice, answered, that 
he purposed leaving us on the following morning. I asked him whether 
he intended visiting the interior ? 
«© No,’ he replied ; ‘ I am going to England without delay.’ 
“« To England! 
. “© Ves,’ he continued; ‘ I have obtained leave of absence, and shall 
sail at day-break to-morrow morning, in the Spanish brig going to 
Gibraltar,’ 
« « And is your motive for leaving us so unexpectedly any which I may 
hope to hear ?’ 
“ He was silent ; and I apologized for a want of delicacy in requesting 
that which I had no right to be concerned in. He shook his head, and, 
grasping my hand in his, faultered out the words, ‘ You shall hear.’— 
Another pause ensued, and it was in scarce distinguishable accents that 
he finally was enabled to communicate his story. It was as follows:— 
He began by announcing to me, that Gianina had conceived for him 
an ardent and most incomprehensible attachment, of which he had for 
some time been quite ignorant, and failed to see a trace till it had been 
matured and fixed irrevocably in her bosom. An accident, which need 
not now be related, disclosed to him in a moment this wonderful truth. 
He had laughed with her, and been her merry companion for weeks, 
but never till that instant did he imagine the possibility of any passion 
arising in her breast more strong or more romantic than the friendly 
feeling which existed in his. From that moment the relation between 
them was changed. Her secret being once known, she no longer scrupled 
to acknowledge each impulse as it arose, in expressions as warm as they 
were innocent. From a maidenly, and almost painful, reserve, she 
passed into the extreme state of inconsiderate ingenuousness. She rarely 
spoke of any thing but him, and her love for him. She planned for the 
future, she revelled over the past, but always as connected with, or 
arising from him. Yet, though she neither checked her words nor her 
actions when with him alone, before others it was impossible to detect 
in her the slightest variation from the indifference with which she used 
to regard all who were not of her own family, even though not abso- 
lutely strangers. Haying told me thus much of my girl, he next dis- 
