You frighten me to death, my dear sister, with your apprehensions. You paint my situation in terrifying colours; yet could I forsee that I should be led into it, when alone and friendless I fled at midnight from a house where I suffered continual torture? Did I imagine that in Bayam I should become acquainted with Don Alonzo's sister, and that I should meet him in her house? Sentence, I know, has been passed against me, and that sentence will be confirmed by what has happened subsequent to my elopement. The testimony of my own heart will be of little avail. But will you also join against me? I cannot believe it. Condemn me not, at least suspend all opinion till we meet, which will be in a fortnight. To avoid the danger of passing through St. Jago, we go by land to a place called Portici, from whence we shall embark. The journey will be delightful. We intend making it on horseback. The governor and Don Alonzo will accompany us. Start not at this, for it cannot be otherwise; nor could I, by refusing his services, discover that I thought it dangerous to accept them. In my anxiety to see you, every moment seems an age, yet I feel something like regret at leaving this country. The friendliness of the people can never be forgotten. Here, as in Barracoa, they are poor but contented. They sip their chocolate, smoke a segar, and thrum the guitar undisturbed by care. Often, when reviewing the events of my past life, I wish that their calm destiny had been mine; but alas! how different has been my fate. I write this letter to prepare you for my arrival. When Anselmo goes next, I go with him; and, when I embrace my sister, I shall be happy. LETTER XXXII. _Kingston, Jamaica._