as employed in my usual occupations. I had then time to
recruit a little. The unhappy baker paid very dear for the food which he
knew how to procure.--But let us not anticipate upon these matters.

After having eaten all the snails we found in our circuit, we were
supported by the sheep which we found dead, partly by hunger, and partly
disease. This suggested to us the idea of stifling in the night some
young kids, knowing well that our masters would throw them away, as
their law prohibits their eating the flesh of any animal whose death is
not occasioned by a stroke.

This little scheme, however, occasioned too frequent deaths, and it
became observable that the goats, who appeared in best health at night,
when the flocks were gathered in, were generally those that were found
dead next morning. Our wants gave reason to suspect us, and at length we
were taken in the act. We were, however, acquitted for past injuries,
with an assurance, that, if we resumed the plan, it should cost us our
heads. Meantime, it was necessary for us to bethink ourselves on some
new plan of subsistence. Thanks to my good constitution, my strength was
recruited, and I was now able to make faggots, for which I found ready
sale, as in that country there is no season of the year in which the
night can be passed without fire; and the women, who have the charge of
these matters, are too lazy to go themselves to cut wood. My little
trade procured me thus sufficient milk for my own support, as well as a
little to spare to poor Devoise, who was very sick.

As I was preparing to go out one morning to make faggots, this friend
spoke to me as follows, in a voice scarcely audible: "All illusion is at
an end; from this moment I will no more flatter myself with the hope of
ever again seeing my native country. I feel my strength gradually
decline. This night, yes, this night, my friend, (for surely you deserve
that name, after what you have done for me), you will find nothing here,
but a corpse cold and dead. Fly, my dear Brisson, fly this hated abode.
Try every scheme you can devise to escape if possible; you were surely
destined for happier days. If Heaven hear my vows in the moment I yield
my breath, it will restore you to your wife and unhappy family. Adieu,
my friend, the tears you attempt to hide are fresh proofs of your
attachment. Write to my brother; assure him that my last words are about
him; and that I die with the sentiments of real Christianity.