he bottom of my heart. I frequently saw the two
sisters of my poor wife, Joaquina and Mariquita, as well as my young
niece, the daughter of excellent Josephine, for whom I had entertained
so warm a friendship, and who so soon followed my darling Anna to
the grave. By little and little I was forming new ties of affection,
which I was soon to break, and never afterwards to renew. I could
not forget Jala-Jala, and my recollections never quitted that place
where were deposited the remains of those whom of all the world I
had most loved. My eager wishes induced me to hope that my work of
colonisation should continue, and that my friend Vidie should find some
compensation for the rough task he had undertaken. At this period, even
while I remained in Manilla, a great misfortune was nearly the cause
of throwing Jala-Jala back into its former state of barbarism. The
bandits, who always respected the place while I was in possession of
it, came one night to attack it, and made themselves masters of the
house in which Vidie had shut himself up, and defended until he was
forced to escape out of a window, and to run and hide in the woods,
leaving his daughter, then very young, to the care of an Indian
nurse. The bandits pillaged and shattered everything in the house;
wounded his daughter by a sabre-cut, of which to this day she bears the
marks; and then went off with the plunder they had made. But Jala-Jala
had become too important a point to be neglected; and the Spanish
government sent troops to it, to protect Vidie, and to maintain order.

At last, Adolphe Barrot received from the French government the
long-awaited instructions to return home; all my preparations were
made for setting out. It was in 1839; twenty years had passed over
since I left my country, which I was now about to return to with
satisfaction. For a long time I had received no news from my mother,
and the pleasure which I anticipated from seeing her was troubled by
the dread of having new sorrows to experience on my arrival. My mother
was then very old; her life had been passed in long tribulations,
and in complete sacrifice of self. The numerous moral troubles which
she had gone through must have affected her state of health. Besides,
I had been so unfortunate: fate seemed to have so roughly treated all
my affections, that I could not refrain from thinking that I should
never again see her for whom I abandoned my much-loved country. The
day for sailing came; yet