of grief and rage when I heard afar off her piercing cries as the rod of the overseer descended upon her.  One day my indignation was so roused, when the pagan wretches had knocked her down and were treating her even more cruelly than usual, that I dared to defend her by force.  Had not my master expected a large sum for my ransom, a frightful death would have been the punishment of my audacity.  After being kept a few days in prison and harshly treated, I was sent back to the fields to work as before.  The condition of the blind slave was not in the least changed; she was still inhumanly beaten.  Her misfortunes pierced my heart, and I was maddened by my inability to protect from pagan cruelty a woman who was my sister by our common faith and a common misfortune.  No longer venturing to have recourse to force, I sought other means to mitigate her sufferings.  During the few hours of repose granted to us, or rather to our overseers, I hastened to the blind woman and shared with her the best of my food; I strove to fortify her by the hope that God would liberate her from this terrible slavery; I told her, that should I ever become free, I would procure her liberation, even were it necessary to renounce for years my own pleasures that I might amass sufficient for her ransom.  I spoke to her of our country, of the goodness of God, and of the probability of my liberation.  The poor blind woman kissed my hands, and called me an angel sent by God to illumine the darkness of her life by the sweet rays of consolation and piety.  I was only a few months her fellow-slave.  My uncle, learning my captivity through messengers I had employed, sent to Algiers an armed vessel to liberate me.  Besides the amount of my ransom, he sent me means to transport some valuable merchandise from Barbary to Italy.  When I took leave of the blind woman, I was so deeply touched by her sorrow, that I pondered upon the means of restoring her to liberty.  It is true that in order to effect this, I would be obliged to employ a large portion of the money sent me by my uncle for the purchase of merchandise, and I was convinced that my uncle, who was inflexible in exacting fidelity to commercial regulations, would overwhelm me with his anger, but my heart gained the ascendency over my reason, and Christian charity triumphed.  Listening only to my compassion, I ransomed the unfortunate woman, and with my own hands I unbound her chains.  That was the happiest moment of my life.”

Mary and her father were both touched by the recital of the young man.

“Oh, Geronimo,” exclaimed Mary, “may God bless you for having been so compassionate to the poor Christian slave!”

“You did well, Geronimo,” said Mr. Van de Werve, “and I esteem and love you more for your generosity to the unfortunate blind woman.  How happy her unexpected liberation must have made her!”