ntent--My
Travels through Europe--I Marry again--Death of my Mother and my
Second Wife--Conclusion.

Having now concluded my last trip into the interior of the Philippines,
I was desirous of not separating myself again from my son, the only
being that remained to me of all those whom I had loved so tenderly. I
took him with me to Manilla; but I did not altogether bid farewell
to Jala-Jala, yet I had almost the intention of never going back to it.

The journey was as agreeable as my melancholy recollections would
permit. I experienced such pleasure in holding my boy in my arms,
and in receiving his gentle caresses, that I occasionally forgot
every sorrow.

I arrived at Manilla, and took up my quarters in the environs, at
the abode of Baptiste Vidie, brother of the friend whom I had left
at Jala-Jala.

After my escape from the Ajetas, I had noticed a small wound on
the forefinger of my right hand, which I attributed to having
been accidentally scratched by a branch or a thorn, while we were
endeavouring to make our escape with such precipitation from the arrows
which the savages let fly at us. The first night I spent at Manilla,
I felt in the place where the wound was such extreme pain that I fell
down twice totally senseless. The agony increased every instant, and
became so violent that I could no longer doubt that it was caused by
the poison of an arrow, shot at me by the Ajetas. I sent for one of
my confreres, and after a most careful examination, he made a large
incision, which did not, however, afford me any relief: the hand,
on the contrary, festered up. By little and little the inflammation
extended itself up my arm, and I was soon in an alarming state.

In short, after suffering during a whole month, and after the most
cruel incertitude, it seemed that the poison had passed into my
breast. I could not sleep for an instant; and, in spite of me, dead
and painful cries came forth from my breast, which was on fire. My
eyes were veiled--I could not see; a burning sweat covered my face;
my blood was on fire, and did not circulate in my veins; my life
seemed about to become extinct. The medical men declared that I could
not pass through the night. According to the usages of the country,
I was told that I ought to regulate my affairs for death. I asked
that the consul-general of France, my excellent friend Adolphe Barrot,
should be sent for.

Adolphe I knew to be a man of true heart and affection, and to