290 HOW HE TOLD HIS STORY. 



very pleasing either in tlie person or manners of Nar- 

 cissus. He seemed to love his master ; but his character 

 was not more agreeable than his physiognomy, and his 

 intelligence did not appear brilliant. I had heard it said 

 that Mr. Jeffrey, in spite of his commercial shrewdness 

 and his passion for the chase, was honest, and possessed a 

 sensible heart. I supposed that Narcissus had been sold 

 to him by his father and mother, on his giving a solemn 

 promise that he would take care of their son, and that 

 the merchant's tenderness originated in his honourable 

 desire to be " as good as his word." 



It chanced that on the very same evening he paid me 

 a visit to thank me for my services. In the course of 

 conversation, I took the liberty of telling him that his 

 mulatto was, undoubtedly, an excellent servant, since he 

 had inspired him with so strong an affection. 



" I ought to take care of him," replied the merchant, 

 " for he once saved my life." 



" What ! that ugly rascal ! " I exclaimed, not stopping 

 to choose my expressions. " I confess that this astonishes 

 me." 



" Yet it is a certain fact," answered the nomadic 

 merchant. "It is nearly two years ago since I bought 

 Narcissus. He was then a child of about twelve years 

 old go far as I can guess ; for in this country it is difficult 

 to guess the age of the blacks. He had been left alone, 

 devoured by fever and half dead, under a small shelter of 

 boughs and turf. The Maroon negroes are accustomed to 

 abandon in this way the invalids and the aged who can 

 no longer keep up with them in their migratory marches. 

 This frightful custom, the least moral of their habits, has 



