neighbors, he was the only one that could walk to his bed after supper. He was tolerably read in theology, and when he was tired of reading St. Augustine he refreshed himself with Rabelais. All the world spoke well of him.
Miss Kerkabon, who had never been married, notwithstanding her hearty wishes so to be, had preserved a freshness of complexion in her forty-fifth year. Her character was that of a good and sensible woman. She was fond of pleasure, and was a devotee.
As they were walking, the prior, looking on the sea, said to his sister:
"It was here, alas! that our poor brother embarked with our dear sister-in-law, Madam Kerkabon, his wife, on board the frigate Swallow, in 1669, to serve the king in Canada. Had he not been killed, probably he would have written to us."
"Do you believe," said Miss Kerkabon, "that our sister-in-law has been eaten by the Cherokees, as we have been told?"
"Certain it is, had she not been killed, she would have come back. I shall weep for her all my lifetime. She was a charming woman, and our brother, who had a great deal of wit, would no doubt have made a fortune."
Thus they were going on with mutual tenderness, when they beheld a small vessel enter the bay of Rence with the tide. It was from England, and came to sell provisions. The crew leaped on shore
