This measure was productive of nothing but disappointment and vexation. One of Maani’s sisters, who had remained with her mother at Bagdad, while the father and brothers were at Ispahan, died suddenly; and the mother, inconsolable for her loss, entreated her husband to return to her with her other children. Then followed the pangs of parting, rendered doubly bitter by the reflection that it was for ever. Pietro became ill and melancholy, having now turned his thoughts, like the prodigal in the parable, towards his country and his father’s house, and determined shortly to commence his journey homeward. Obtaining without difficulty his dismission from the shah, and winding up his affairs, which were neither intricate nor embarrassed, at Ispahan, he set out on a visit to Shiraz, intending, when he should have examined Persepolis and its environs, to bid an eternal adieu to Persia. With this view, having remained some time at Shiraz, admiring but not enjoying the pure stream of the Rocnabad, the bowers of Mesellay, and the bright atmosphere which shed glory on all around, he proceeded to Mineb, a small town on the river Ibrahim, a little to the south of Gombroon and Ormus, on the shore of the Persian Gulf. Maani, whose desire to become a mother had been an unceasing source of unhappiness to her ever since her marriage, being now pregnant, nothing could have been more ill-judged in her husband than to approach those pestilential coasts; especially at such a season of the year. He quickly discovered his error, but it was too late. The fever which rages with unremitting violence throughout all that part of the country during six months in the year had now seized not only upon Maani, but on himself likewise, and upon every other member of his family. Instant flight might, perhaps, have rescued them from danger, as it afterward did Chardin, but a fatal lethargy seems to have seized upon the mind of Pietro. He trembled at the destiny which menaced him, he saw death, as it were, entering his house, and approach gradually the individual whom he cherished beyond all others; time was allowed him by Providence for escape, yet he stood still, as if spellbound, and suffered the victim to be seized without a struggle. His wife, whose condition I have alluded to above, affected at once by the fever, and apprehensive of its consequences, was terrified into premature labour, and a son dead-born considerably before its time put the finishing stroke, as it were, to the affliction of her mind. Her fever increased in violence—medical aid was vain—death triumphed—and Maani sunk into the grave at the age of twenty-three.