“I arrived at the ruined works of Marly after a fatiguing ride of five hours in the wildest district of St Mary's Mountains,” he writes. “The dwelling-house was situated on a mountain eminence” (they always are) “about two hundred feet above the works, the remains of a little garden that had probably been planted by the old proprietor was still visible on the only level spot in front of the house, a few fruit trees only remained, but it seemed from the place that had been enclosed, and was marked by a long line of scattered stones, the soil that was now covered with weeds had been formerly laid out in flower plots. In going from the ruined works to the house, I missed my road amidst the rank verdure which nearly obliterated every trace of a path; so that I traversed a considerable part of the property without meeting a human being. The negro huts at some distance from the house were all uninhabited; the roofs of them had tumbled in, and had the appearance of being long unoccupied. The negro boy who accompanied me was very anxious for me to return to Claremont, and said it was no good to walk about such a place, buckras all dead, niggers all dead too, no one lived there but duppies and Obeah men. It was certainly as suitable a place for such folk as one could well imagine. I proceeded, however, to the house and went through the ceremony of knocking at the door, but received no answer; the door was ajar and 1 took the liberty of walking into the house of my old uncle. “The room I entered was in keeping with the condition of the exterior, every plank in the naked room was crumbling to decay. I opened one of the side doors, and, to my great surprise, I perceived two women as white as any inhabitants of any southern climates, and tolerably well clad, standing at an opposite window, evidently alarmed at my intrusion. I soon explained to them the nature of my visit, and requested permission to rest for a short time after my fatiguing journey. In a few minutes two other young females and a very old mulatto woman of a bright complexion made their appearance from an adjoining room, and what was my surprise at learning that the two youngest were the natural daughters of Mr Gordon, the person who purchased the property out of Chancery, the two others, the daughters of my uncle, Mr Theodosius Lyons, and the old woman their mother! The eldest of her daughters was about forty years of age, the other probably a year or two younger; and the resemblance of one of them to some members of my family was so striking that the moment her name was mentioned I had no difficulty in recognising her origin. The poor women were delighted to see a person who called himself a relation of their father; but with the feeling there was evidently a good deal of suspicion mingled as to the motives of my visit, and of apprehensions that I had come there for the purpose of taking possession of the property; and all I could say to remove this impression was