“MY DEAREST LETTY,—Probably you have thought me dead, and were not very sorry for it. No; you have always, even in the worst periods of my wretched life, shown such an admirable love for me, so undeserved, so badly requited; you have had such a wonderful faith in my coming some day right side uppermost, that I still flatter myself that you will be glad to see my hand-writing again. But the truth is, I have been at Death’s door, and all but in his ancient house. When I wrote to you in the autumn, I said I was going into Indiana. I had heard rumours of a man who very much resembled the one I was wanting to come up with, though out of no love to him, and was making my way to Indianopolis. I had reached a village not far from the Wabash, in a deep valley, and amongst enormous woods, where clearings and cultivation are but partial and scattered. I put up at a rude wooden public-house, where I was very miserably accommodated, but that was nothing new to me. When I came out of my room in the morning, which was on the ground-floor, my landlord, a tall, lanky woodsman, said, ‘Stranger, I guess I have but poor news for you. Some one in the night has entered the shed, and ridden off with your horse.’ “In my astonishment and consternation, I asked him why he thought so. ‘Just,’ said he, ‘because the crittur is not there.’ I rushed out as if I would be satisfied, but my horse, saddle, and bridle had disappeared, and my landlord, for my consolation, assured me that such scamps going through the country were often showing such a preference of riding over walking, at any one’s expense. The horror of my situation may be conceived. I had not money with me sufficient to purchase another horse, and to wait for an answer and remittance from New York would throw me into the winter. I determined to set out and reach Indianapolis on foot. For days I walked on in extreme anxiety, through woods, marshes, and intricate hills. Wet through and through, I at length took up my quarters for the night in the inn of another hamlet. The next morning I staggered forward on rising out of bed, from excessive dizziness, and in two or three days lost my consciousness in a delirious attack of fever. A week after that I awoke, weak beyond expression, and unable to move. I was told I had been in a raging condition, and corded down on my bed. It was some time before I could get out of bed, and on looking for my clothes, found my coat gone, and with it the whole of my money. I could get no satisfaction. The people of the house said there had been many strangers coming and going, and some one of them had clearly been a thief.