ure. I was too grateful for this proof of the friendship
of the good Dolores not to acquiesce in her wishes, and it was decided
that on the following day I should quit Jala-Jala for ever.

The report was soon spread among my Indians. They all came to bid me
farewell: they wept, and they said to me:

"Oh, master, do not deprive us of all hope of seeing you again. Go,
and receive consolation from your mother, and then return to your
children." That day was filled with most distressing feelings.

The day following was Sunday. I went to say adieu to the remains of
those whom I had loved even in their tombs. I heard for the last time
the divine service in the modest little church which I had erected,
and in which for a long time, surrounded by my dearest friends, I was
happy to assemble, on the same day of the week, the small congregation
of Jala-Jala.

After the service I proceeded to the beach, where the boat was waiting,
which was to take me to Manilla. There--surrounded by my Indians, the
good parish priest, Padre Miguel, and my friend Vidie--I bade adieu
to them all for the last time. Dolores and I got into the boat, which
was scarcely pushed off from the shore when every arm was stretched
out towards me, and every one exclaimed:--"May your voyage be happy,
master! And oh! return soon!"

One of the oldest Indians made a sign for silence, and then in a loud
voice uttered these solemn words:--"Brothers, let us weep and pray,
for the sun is obscured to us; the star which is going has shed light
on our best days, and now for the future, being deprived of that light,
we cannot tell how long will last the night in which we are plunged
by the misfortune of his departure."

This exhortation of the old Indian were the last words that reached
us: the boat moved away, as I, for the last time, fixed my eyes on
the beloved land which I was never again to behold.

We reached Manilla late: it was one of those enchanting nights, which
I have described in the happy period of my voyages. Dolores insisted
that I should not lodge in any house but hers. Before she set out
her careful friendship had provided for everything. I was surrounded
by all those little attentions of which woman alone has the secret,
and which she knows how to confer with such grace on him who is the
object for whom they are designed.

My windows looked on the pretty river Pasig. I there passed whole
days in looking at the graceful Indian canoes gliding over