17th March, Dinapore.—I must now account to you for a wide chasm in my narrative, most truly an involuntary one. I am still so weak my hand trembles and the words I write are indistinct. Oh how miserably ill I have been! and this fever is like a serpent showing his crest among flowers; it came upon me when and where I least expected such a visitation. I believe I may date its commencement from my moonlight ramble among the ruins of Monghir, though I went about for some time, as my sensations were incomprehensible to myself, and tried to conquer the debility I felt creeping over me, as Niel watched me with looks of such extreme distress. I sat up until I hardly knew what was doing around me, then shivering fits of ague gave my illness a decided character, and Niel and the doctor began most anxiously to wish for our arrival, as the latter considered himself but imperfectly acquainted with the symptoms of the disease. All that care and kindness on his part could do, was done, and he only left our boat when obliged by duty.

Every one was so kind and attentive, I hardly knew which to be most grateful to. Captain Macdonald, who knew more of Indian fevers than any of the party, used to spend every evening in our boat, and make my drink and sit and talk by my couch when I could listen.