The day after he returned from the hospital I observed that he was inclined to be impatient; the next day he was more impatient, and was positively disobedient. I was surprised and pained; and I wondered whether it could be possible that my constant care had in any way spoiled a disposition which years of neglect and adversity had only sweetened. But it was soon explained. That evening while he was eating his dinner, in a little room next the dining-room where I was eating mine, I heard him talking excitedly to the waiter. I immediately went to him and carried him to my room. He sat down and covering his face with both his hands held them there without moving. I spoke to him but he did not answer. Then removing his hands from his face, I called him by name. He turned his eyes towards mine in an agony of fear: it was his last sane moment. He uttered a loud shriek, and another, and another. I caught him in my arms as he went into a convulsion and laid him on my bed. But I knew that upon this poor little boy, from his birth marked out for misfortune, and who had now suffered so long, had at last fallen the most terrible of human calamities—insanity; and that, too, just when his recovery seemed hopeful. All night he continued talking wildly, and shrieking at intervals. In the morning he was more quiet, though not more sane. Nor was there any marked change during the ten long weary days that we still remained in the hotel. He gradually became weaker and more insane. I did not let him out of my sight except when I went to my meals, and then I locked him in my room. Once when I returned from dinner I found him dressed in a suit of white pajamas of mine. He said to me: “That woman who comes in to attend to the room while you are at dinner is a very foolish person. She came in this evening and looked at me and laughed, and laughed. But all Spaniards seem to be foolish.” On the 10th of July I returned to Santa Cruz. The next day the _Volta_ arrived and I immediately went on board. I looked forward with dread to the long journey on the steamer with an insane child. I engaged a second-class cabin (although I was a first-class passenger) that I might be removed from the white passengers; for on these steamers there are seldom any white men travelling second-class. Again, by the kindness of the captain, Ndong occupied the cabin with me. He was determined to go all over the ship, but it was more than ever necessary that I should restrain him. He became impatient of the restraint, and regarded me as his prison-keeper. It made a great difference when this child, who had loved me with the utmost devotion, now turned against me. But his own suffering was increased by this feeling; nor was there anything I could do to relieve it. I simply waited for the end and prayed to Him who tempers the wind to the shorn lamb.