of the Voltairean school, different kinds of
seeds, garden tools, clothing materials, trunks,
a few wooden planks, pens, ink, a large
quantity of paper, and other effects, sufficient
to freight a coral-boat that was equipped by
some Genoese, who, if I remember rightly,
profited by the occasion to fish for cray-fish
and gather erba tramontana. We saw him
leave for La Galite; the boat returned; and
on the 15th of April 1844 M. Dupont found
himself at last alone in his island. There
he indulged his reveries without interruption,
and began to write his autobiography. People
soon ceased to talk about him, and he seemed
to be entirely forgotten.

When I went to La Galite with the
Bobérach in July 1844, we were extremely
curious to see M. Dupont again. We asked
one another in what sort of state we should
find this modern Robinson Crusoe. When we
cast anchor, we gazed in all directions along
the beach and its environs, to catch sight of
him; but in vain. At last, the boat was
aground; we jumped on shore; and behind a
block of stone, on the beach in front of the
grotto, I perceived a gaunt yellow dog gnawing
a human skeleton, which still was very
recognizable. The dog immediately took to flight.

M. de Pérallo was alarmed; Theurkauff
was deeply affected. The spectacle was a
very sad one. I carefully ascertained that
it actually was a human skeleton; and the
state of the sutures led me to believe that
it was that of a man about forty years of age.
There was a very irregular fracture of the
skull, on the left temple. Along with the
skeleton, a bloody shirt and a pair of trousers
similarly stained were lying on the ground. I
recognized the trowsers as those worn by M.
Dupont on the day of his departure from La
Calle; I knew them by their being discoloured
in a remarkable way.

We searched throughout the island. A few
paces from the fountain, on the way up the
ravine, we found the traces of a human
habitation in a grotto which offered a very
convenient place of shelter. By the side of
the fire-place there was a rude seat; scattered
on the ground were fragments of novels, worn
out clothes, torn manuscripts, pens, ink, and
such like sundries. Further on, we picked up
other articles of trifling value, such as bullets,
bags of seeds, medicines, a paper-knife, a
pen-knife, visiting cards, a fishing net, and linen
rags. We explored the island in every
direction, and could find nothing of M.
Dupont. We, therefore, concluded him to be
dead; and that the body which we saw on
landing, must have been his.

The large yellow dog alarmed us. While
Baussand and myself were out shooting next
day, we fell in with him, and destroyed him.
The bones of poor M. Dupont were collected
by the sailors, and buried in a hole which
was covered over with shingle.

The unhappy man had taken no measures
at La Galite to render his exile comfortable.
Had I been in his place, I would have made
a few convenient arrangements in the grotto
selected for my abode; and it was a very
easy thing for him to have done. There was no
little garden laid out; nothing had been
planted; and yet, in some spots, he had only
to scratch the earth. Instead of employing
himself in that way, M. Dupont confined
himself to making extracts from philosophical
works applicable to his situation. I gathered
up a good many manuscripts and copies of
letters, all characterized by misanthropy;—
long pages on the ingratitude of man and the
inconstancy of woman. There were numerous
notes relative to the sorrows and misfortunes
of his past life; and those documents enabled
me to verify the preceding details. I collected
fragments from Rousseau and Voltaire,
medical prescriptions, astronomical
memoranda, agricultural and gardening directions,
and lastly, a few brief notes on La Galite
extracted from the work of M. Bérard and
from the Memoir of the visit made to this
island in 1840 by the Scientific Commission,
and printed in the Akbar. We also amassed
a voluminous correspondence, consisting both
of copies and of original letters addressed to
M. Dupont, or written by him; and it is
remarkable that all the latter documents, on
whatever day of the month they were written,
are dated eleven o'clock at night, as if that
were his special hour of correspondence.
Amongst the papers which we picked up, a
great number were inventories of the articles
which he had brought to La Galite. These
inventories speak of sabres, guns, trunks,
clothes, and tools, while we found nothing
but worthless articles scattered in different
parts of the island.

How are all those facts to be explained?—
Was M. Dupont first murdered, and then
plundered? Or, did he commit suicide?
How did it happen that the various articles
which I have mentioned, such as a handkerchief
containing linen, the bag of shot, the
visiting cards, the pen-knife, the paper-knife,
and so on, were all found at considerable
distances from his cave, and distributed in
various localities?

It appeared to me, from the state of the
remains, that death had occurred about a
fortnight before our arrival. The flesh had
been torn from the corpse by birds of prey,
and by the dog. The fracture on the left
temple was not a gun-shot wound; nor can I
account for it by a fall. If M. Dupont had
determined on suicide, with the habit which
he had of writing every thought he would
have indited long passages in explanation of
his resolve, and would have used it as a
theme to prove his fellow-creatures guilty of
his death.

The general opinion was that a crime had
been committed; that M. Dupout had been
murdered, in order to be robbed. The coral-
boats, which sometimes touch at La Galite,
are manned by sailors who are troubled