pears and raisins below, and covering them
above with odorous flowers. An artist might
make a pretty picture here, when the Indians
arrive at sunrise in their boats loaded with the
produce of their floating gardens. Next week,
Burton, his friend, and I, are to set out for the
mines of Moran and Real del Monte. I should
have preferred to delay our journey a while
longer for reasons of my own, but Burton
presses, and feels wo have already delayed
longer than enough.

Moran, July 4, 1831.

I am sick of this place, but our business here
is now on the verge of completion, and in a few
days we start on our expedition to the mines of
Guanamato. The director, Burton, and myself,
are all of opinion that immense advantages are
to be gained by improving the working of the
mines, which is, at present, in a very defective
condition. There is great mortality amongst
the Indians, who are the beasts of burden of the
mines; they carry on their backs, loads of metal
of from two hundred and fifty to three hundred
and fifty pounds at a time, ascending and
descending thousands of steps, in files which
contain old men of seventy, and mere children. I
have not been very well here, having had some
return of old symptoms, but under proper treatment
they dispersed; however, I shall be thankful
to be on the move again.

Pascuaro, August 11, 1831.

Can any man evade his thoughts, impalpable
curses sitting on his heart, mocking like fiends?
I cannot evade mine. All yesterday I was
haunted by a terrible anxiety and dread. At
every turn, at every moment, I expected to see
Honor Livingston appear before me, but I did
not see her. The day and the night passed, and
I was freed from that great horror—how great
I had not realised until its hour had gone and
left no trace. This morning I am myself again;
my spirits revive; I have escaped my enemy,
and have proved that it was, indeed, but a subtle
emanation of my own diseased body and mind.
But these thoughts, these troublesome persistent
thoughts, how combat them? Burton, very
observant of me at all times, was yesterday
watchful as an inquisitor; he said he hoped I
was not going to have the frightful fever which
is prevailing here, but I know he meant something
else. I have not a doubt now, that Anne
and all that confederacy warned him before we
set sail, to beware of me, for I had been mad;
that is the cursed lie they set abroad. Mad!
All the world's mad, or on the way to it!

But if Honor had come back to me yesterday,
we might have gone and have looked down
together into hell, through the ovens of Jorulla.
The missionaries cursed this frightful place,
generations since; and it is accursed, if ever
land was. Nothing more awful than this desolate
burning waste, which the seas could not
quench. When I remember it, and all I underwent
yesterday, the confusion and horror return
upon me again, and my brain swerves like the
brain of a drunken man. I will write no more
—sufficient to record that the appointed time
came and went, and Honor Livingston did not
keep her word with me.

New Orleans, February, 1832.

I left Burton still in Mexico, and came here
alone. His care and considerateness were more
than I could put up with, and after two or three
ineffectual remonstrances, we came to a violent
rupture, and I determined to throw up my
engagement, rather than carry it out in conjunction
with such a man. There was no avoiding
the quarrel. Was I to be tutored day by day,
and the wine-bottle removed out of my reach?
He dared to tell me that when I was cool, clear
—myself, in short—there was no man my master
in our profession; but that when I had drunk
freely I was unmanageable as a lunatic! A
lie, of course; but unscrupulous persecutors are
difficult to circumvent. Anne's malice pursues
me even here. When I was out yesterday, my
footsteps were dogged pertinaciously wherever I
went, and perhaps an account of my doings will
precede me home; but if they do, I defy them
all to do their worst.

Ashendell, August 9, 1839.

This old book turned up to-day, amongst some
traps that have lain by in London all the years
that I have spent, first in Spain and afterwards
in Russia. What fool's-talk it is; but I suppose
it was true at the time. I know I was in
a wretched condition while I was in Mexico and
in the States, but I have been sane enough and
sound enough ever since the illness I had at
Baltimore. To prove how little hold on me my
ancient horrors nave retained, I find myself at
Ashendell in the very season of the year when
Honor Livingston destroyed herself—to-morrow
is the anniversary of her death. So I take my
enemy by the throat, and crush him! These
fantastical maladies will not stand against
a determined will. At Moscow, at Cherson, at
Archangel, the tenth of August has come and
gone, unmarked. Honor failed of her threat
everywhere except at Lisbon. I saw her there
twice, just before we sailed. I saw her, when
we were off that coast where we so nearly
escaped wreck, rising and falling upon the waves.
I saw her in London, that day I appointed to
see Anne. But I know what it means: it means
that I must put myself in Umpleby's hands for
a few weeks, and that the shadows will forthwith
vanish. Shadows they are, out of my own
brain, and they take the shape of Honor because
I have let her become a fixed idea in my mind.
Yet it is very strange that the last time, she
appeared to me, I heard her speak. I fancied she
said that it was Almost time; and then louder,
"I'll haunt you, James, until you come to the
Ashenfall, where I am going now!" And with
that she vanished. Fancy plays strange tricks
with us, and makes cowards of us almost as
cleverly as conscience.

August 10.

I have had a very unpleasant impression on
me all day. I wish I had resisted Linchley's