the country and its people, which
eventually drifted into print. Then came the stirring news that another
campaign was imminent in Mooltan, his heart leaped with joy, and he
begged to be allowed to accompany the force as interpreter. As he had
passed examinations in six native languages and had studied others
nobody was better qualified for the post or seemed to be more likely to
get it.

17. Letter to Sarah Burton, 14th Nov. 1848.

It was while his fate thus hung in the balance that he wrote to his
cousin Sarah [81] daughter of Dr. Francis Burton, who had just lost her
mother. [82] His letter, which is headed Karachi, 14th November 1848,
runs as follows:--"My dear cousin, I lose no time in replying to your
note which conveyed to me the mournful tidings of our mutual loss. The
letter took me quite by surprise. I was aware of my poor aunt's health
having suffered, but never imagined that it was her last illness. You
may be certain that I join with you in lamenting the event. Your mother
had always been one of my best relations and kindest friends; indeed she
was the only one with whom I kept up a constant correspondence during
the last six years. I have every reason to regret her loss; and you,
of course, much more. Your kind letter contained much matter of a
consolatory nature; it was a melancholy satisfaction to hear that my
excellent aunt's death-bed was such a peaceful one--a fit conclusion to
so good and useful a life as hers was. You, too, must derive no small
happiness from the reflection that both you and your sister [83] have
always been dutiful daughters, and as such have contributed so much
towards your departed mother's felicity in this life. In my father's
last letter from Italy he alludes to the sad event, but wishes me not to
mention it to my mother, adding that he has fears for her mind if it be
abruptly alluded to.

"At the distance of some 1,500 [84] miles all we can do is resign
ourselves to calamities, and I confess to you that judging from the
number of losses that our family has sustained during the last six years
I fear that when able to return home I shall find no place capable of
bearing that name. I hope, however, dear cousin, that you or your
sister will occasionally send me a line, informing me of your plans and
movements, as I shall never leave to take the greatest interest in your
proceedings. You may be certain that I shall never neglect to answer
your letters and shall always l