position to return in a fitting manner to his paternal
dwelling. We recommended him to go to his aged mother, and fulfil the
duties which filial affection dictates, to instruct her in the mysteries
of the Christian faith, and to cause her to enjoy at her last moments the
benefit of baptismal regeneration; then, when he had closed her eyes, to
return and pass his days among the Christians.

To say the truth, Samdadchiemba was not an amiable young man; sour,
savage, and sometimes saucy, he was by no means an agreeable
fellow-traveller; yet he had in him a groundwork of honesty and devotion,
quite capable, in our opinion, of compensating for the perversities of
his nature. We felt at parting from him a deep affliction, and all the
more so, that we had never suspected the existence, at the bottom of our
hearts, of so strong an attachment to this young man. But we had made
together a long and painful journey; we had endured together so many
privations, and so much misery, that, unconsciously, our existence was,
so to speak, fused with his. The law of affinity which unites men to
each other, acts with much more power amidst suffering, than in
prosperity.

On the day appointed for our departure, two Chinese soldiers came, early
in the morning, to inform us that the Ta-Lao-Ye, Ly-Kouo-Ngan; that is to
say, his Excellency Ly, pacificator of kingdoms, awaited us at breakfast.
This personage was the Mandarin whom the ambassador Ki-Chan had appointed
to accompany us to China. We fulfilled his invitation; and, as the
departure was to take place from his house, we had our luggage
transported thither.

Ly, the pacificator of kingdoms, was a native of Tchang-Tou-Fou, capital
of the province of Sse-Tchouen; he belonged to the hierarchy of the
military mandarins. For twelve years he had served in Gorkha, a province
of Boutan, where he obtained rapid promotion, and reaching the dignity of
Tou-Sse, with the general command of the troops guarding the frontiers
bordering on the English possessions, he was decorated with the blue
button, and enjoyed the privilege of wearing in his cap seven sable
tails. Ly-Kouo-Ngan was only forty-five years old, but you would have
taken him for seventy; so broken and battered was he; he had hardly any
teeth left in his head; his scanty hair was grey; his dull and glassy
eyes endured a strong light with difficulty; his flabby wrinkled face,
his totally withered hands, and his enormous legs, upon whic