. We in vain represented to him the dangers
to which he exposed himself; nothing would divert him from his design.
He promised, however, to go to Safal only during the day, and to sleep
at the house of the resident at Babaguey. He told us that it was not the
war with the Moors alone which caused him to bring us to Senegal, but
also the state of suffering in which the whole family was. It is true
our strength was considerably diminished; the youngest of my brothers
had been for several days attacked with a strong fever; and we were all
slightly seized with the same disease. My father, taking our oldest
brother with him, left us for the isle of Safal, promising to come and
see us every Sunday. I went with him to the court-gate, conjuring him,
above all things, not to expose himself, and to take care of his health,
which was so precious to us. That worthy man embraced me, and bade me
fear nothing on that head, for he too well felt how necessary his life
was to his children, to expose it imprudently. "For my health," added
he, "I hope to preserve it long, unless Heaven has decided otherwise."
With these words he bid adieu, and went away; I returned to the house
and gave free vent to my tears. I know not what presentiment then seized
me, for I felt as if I had seen my father for the last time; and it was
only at the end of the third day, on receiving a letter written with his
own hand, that I could divest myself of these gloomy ideas. He told us
he was very well, and that all was quiet at Safal. On the same day I
wrote to inform him of the condition of our young brother, who was a
little better during the evening; I sent him at the same time some
loaves of new bread and three bottles of wine which a generous person
had had the goodness to give us. On the following Sunday we sat waiting
his arrival, but a frightful tempest that raged during all the day,
deprived us of that pleasure; we, however, received accounts from him
every two days, which were always satisfactory.

About the 1st of August 1819, the best friend of my father, M. Dard,
who, from the commencement of our misfortunes, had not withheld his
helping hand from us, came to announce his approaching departure for
France, and to bid us farewell. We congratulated him on the happiness of
leaving so melancholy a place as Senegal. After we had talked some time
about our unfortunate situation, and of the little hope we had of ever
getting out of it, that sensible man, feeli