The strongest constitution cannot resist the fatigue of fifty days of constant watching and uneasiness; and the state of annihilation in which I was, both physically and morally, after despair had taken the place of the glimmering hope which sustained us to the last moment, was such that I fell into a state of insensibility, which ended in a profound sleep. I awoke on the following day with my son in my arms. But how frightful was my state on awaking. All that was horrible in my position presented itself to my imagination. Alas! she was no more; my adorable companion, that beloved angel and consolatrix, who had, on my account, abandoned all--parents, friends, and the pleasures of a capital--to shut herself up with me in a deserted wilderness, where she was exposed to a thousand dangers, and had but me to support her. She was no more; and fatal destiny had torn her from me, to sink me for ever in desolation and grief. The funeral took place on the following day, and was attended by every inhabitant of Jala-Jala. Her body was deposited near the altar in the humble church which I had caused to be erected, and before which altar she had so often poured forth prayers for my happiness. For a long time mourning and consternation reigned in Jala-Jala. All my Indians showed the deepest sympathy for the loss which they had suffered. Anna was, during her life, beloved even to idolatry, and after her death she was most sincerely lamented. For several days I continued in a thorough depression, unable to attend to anything, except to the cares which my son, then my only remaining consolation, required. Three weeks elapsed before I quitted the room in which my poor wife had expired. I then received a note from Josephine, in which she stated that her illness had grown worse. The note ended with these words: "Come, my dear Paul; come to me: we shall weep together. I feel that your presence will afford some consolation." I did not hesitate to comply with the request of dear Josephine, for whom I entertained an affection as if for my own sister. My presence might prove a solace to her, and I myself felt that it would prove to me a great consolation to see a person who had so sincerely loved my Anna. The hope of being useful to her re-animated my courage a little. I left my house under the care of Prosper Vidie, an excellent friend, who during the last days of my wife's life had not quitted me, and departed, accompanied by my son.