_Galle, May 23rd_.--L'homme propose, mais.... I ended my letter yesterday by telling you that I was about to embark for Singapore amid torrents of rain and growlings of thunder; but I little thought what was to follow on this inauspicious embarkation. We got on board the Peninsular and Oriental steamer 'Malabar' with some difficulty, there was so much sea where the vessel was lying; and I was rather disgusted to find, when I mounted the deck, that some of the cargo or baggage had not yet arrived, and that we were not ready for a start. I was already half wet through, and there was nothing for it but to sit still on a bench under a dripping awning. About twenty minutes after I had established myself in this position, the wind suddenly shifted, and burst upon us with great fury from the north-east. The monsoon, now due, comes from the south-west, and therefore a gale from the north-east was unexpected, though I must say that, as we were being assailed by constant thunderstorms, we had no right, in my opinion, to consider ourselves secure on any side against the assaults of the wind. Be this however as it may, the gale was so violent that I observed to some one near me that it reminded me of a typhoon. I had hardly made this remark, when a severe shock, accompanied by a grating sound, conveyed to me the disagreeable information that the stern of the vessel was on the rocks. Whether we tad two anchors out or one; whether our cables were _hove taut_ or not; whether we had thirty fathoms out or only fifteen, are points still in dispute; but at any rate we had no steam; so, after we once were on the rock, we had for some time no means of getting off it. During this period the thumping and grating continued. It seemed, moreover, once or twice, to be probable that we should run foul of a ship moored near us. However, after a while, the engines began to work, and then symptoms of a panic manifested themselves. The passengers came running up to me, saying that the captain was evidently going to sea, that there were merchant captains and others on board who declared that the certain destruction of the ship and all on board would be the consequence, and begging me to interfere to save the lives of all, my own included. At first I declined to do anything,--told them that I had no intention of taking the command of the ship, and recommended them in that respect to follow my example. At last, however, as they became importunate, I sent Crealock[2] to the captain, with my compliments, to ask him whether we were going to sea. The answer was not encouraging, and went a small way towards raising the spirits of my nervous friends around me. 'Going to sea,' said the captain, 'why, we are going to the bottom.' The fact is that we were at the time when that reply was