“But consider,” I said, “you have no knowledge of storekeeping, and will make but a poor clerk for attending upon these rough miners.”

“My dear boy,” our guest exclaimed, “before you were born, as a British merchant, I sold thousands of pounds worth of West India goods; and should now, if I had my rights, be in possession of a princely fortune.  Do not think that I am speaking boastingly, for I am humble.  All pride, excepting the love of honesty, and a desire to see my family once more in comfortable circumstances, has left me; and now I labor for love of my children, at whatever business I can make the most money.”

“You have a family, then?” I asked.

The old gentleman nodded; and through the tobacco smoke I saw that his eyes grow moist at the question.  We sat silent for a few minutes, for we did not wish to interrogate him in relation to his family affairs, although I must confess that I felt something of a Yankee’s curiosity in regard to his position in life.

“I have no desire to keep from you my story,” Mr. Critchet said, “although it may not interest you, and is but a repetition of trust and wrong—­of confidence and betrayal.  Such as it is, however, I will confide to you, and hope that it may prevent you from being shipwrecked on the same sea.”

The old gentleman moistened his lips with a drink of cold tea, and began:—­

“My father was a merchant before me, and dealt largely in West India and India goods; and, when I was of sufficient age, I occupied a stool in his counting room, and learned the mysteries of buying low and selling high, for the purpose of taking his place when he felt rich enough to retire.

“When he did, which was at a ripe old age, I was left in possession of two thirds of his property, it being shared by my sister and myself; and when my sister married, which she did without my consent, and almost before I knew her husband by reputation, I paid over to her every penny that belonged to her, and wished her God speed on her journey through life.  We were nearly strangers to each other, owing to the death of our mother during her infancy, when an aunt had volunteered to assume the control of her education, and that was one reason why, perhaps, my advice was not listened to in regard to the choice of a husband.

“Well, time passed on, and at length I too married, and was blessed with a daughter, and then I renewed my exertions for wealth for my child’s sake; for then I was a silly and ambitious man, and hoped that I could connect myself by marriage with some peer or lord, or even a baronet.  That was eighteen years ago, my friends, and since that period I have grown wiser, and, as you see, older.  If I can live to see my daughter wedded to an honest man my ambition will be satisfied.”

I began to reflect and ponder over those words.  How did I know but that I might suit her fancy!  I looked at Fred, and would have sworn that he was debating the same subject.  I already began to feel jealous; for an English girl, at the age of nineteen, is not to be passed by without a kind consideration.  I wondered if she was handsome, but supposed that she must be, judging from the appearance of her father.