SHIPWRECK OF THE MEDUSA. 371 
sumed ; and beside, the distressed condition to which we 
were reduced made me flatter myself with the thought that 
the governor wished at last to make amends for the wrongs 
he had done us. But, alas ! his assistance was too late ; the 
fatal moment was fast approaching, when my father had to 
bend under the pressure of his intolerable sufferings. 
The day after we had taken possession of our new abode, 
my father sent me to the Isle of Babaguey to bring back the 
things which were left at the house of the Resident. As I 
found myself considerably better during the last few days, I 
hired a canoe and went, leaving the sick to the care of Caro- 
line. I soon reached the place of my destination, and finish- 
ing my business, I was upon the point of returning to Sene- 
gal, when a wish came into my head of seeing Safal. Hav- 
ing made two negroes take me to the other side of the river, 
I walked along the side of the plantation, then visited our cot- 
tage, which I found just as we had left it. At last I bent my 
steps toward the tomb of my step-mother, in which were de- 
posited the remains of my little sister. I seated myself under 
the shrubs which shaded the place of their repose, and re- 
mained a long while wrapped in the most melancholy reflec- 
tions. All the misfortunes we had experienced since our ship- 
wreck came across my mind, and I asked myself how I had 
been able to endure them 1 I thought that at this instant a 
secret voice said to me, you will yet have greater to deplore. 
Terrified by this melancholy presentiment, I strove to rise, 
but my strength failing me, I fell on my knees upon the grave. 
After having addressed my prayers to the Eternal, I felt a lit- 
tle more tranquil ; and, quitting this melancholy spot, old 
Etienne led me back to Babaguey, where my canoe waited 
for me. The heat was excessive ; however, I endured it, 
rather than wait for the coolness of evening to return to my 
father. On my arrival at St. Louis I found him in a violent 
passion at a certain personage of the colony, w-ho, without any 
regard to his condition, had said the most humiliating things 
to him. This scene had contributed in no small degree to ag- 
gravate his illness ; for on the evening of the same day the 
fever returned, and a terrible delirium darkened all his facul- 
ties. We spent a horrible night, expecting every moment to 
be his last. The following day found little change in his con- 
dition, except a small glimmering of reason at intervals. In 
one of these moments, when we hoped he would recover his 
health, M. Dard, whom we thought already far from Senegal, 
entered our house. My father instantly recognized him, and 
