The refusal of the French governors had distressed me, but that of the English governor did not affect me at all; I felt myself the more free: I thanked heaven that I was now able to break off my engagement with foreigners, to whom I was indebted for their generous hospitality, but who might perhaps in return have laid claim to the glory of a discovery, with which I hoped to do honour to France. I gave in my resignation, therefore, with as much eagerness as I had felt in giving up my little allowance of fifty francs a month. The sacrifice was so much the easier as I had saved nearly two thousand francs, and this treasure seemed to me to be sufficient to carry me all over the world. Lastly, there was a hope which tranquillised my mind as to the fate of my poor sister; I had just heard of the premium offered by the Geographical Society of Paris to the first European who should reach Timbuctoo, and I said to myself: “Dead or alive, it shall be mine, and my sister shall receive it.” These hopes, these visions of glory, of patriotism, and of fraternal affection, left me no rest; and I had nothing like peace till the evening before I left Sierra-Leone. Not having been able any where to obtain the necessary assistance for a journey to Timbuctoo, I determined to undertake it entirely at my own expense. I hoped also that when I returned, the French government, ever just in its appreciation of courageous exertion, would reward the service which I should have rendered to geographical science, by making known the new countries which I intended to visit. Encouraged by these hopes, I gave in my resignation without regret; I was afterwards actively engaged in procuring the goods I was likely to want, and laid out my savings in the purchase of paper, glass, and other articles.