are of yourself_.' With a heavy heart I went to my room, and
having no hope to excite me to exertion, I sunk down almost in despair.
For several days previous, I had been actively engaged in building my
own little room, and making our hovel comfortable. My thoughts had been
almost entirely occupied in contriving means to get into prison. But now
I looked towards the gate with a kind of melancholy feeling, but no wish
to enter. All was the stillness of death; no preparation of your
brother's food, no expectation of meeting him at the usual dinner hour,
all my employment, all my occupations seemed to have ceased, and I had
nothing left but the dreadful recollection that Mr. Judson was carried
off, I knew not whither. It was one of the most insupportable days I
ever passed. Towards night, however, I came to the determination to set
off the next morning for Amarapora; and for this purpose was obliged to
go to our house out of town.

"Never before had I suffered so much from fear in traversing the streets
of Ava. The last words of the governor, 'Take care of yourself,' made me
suspect there was some design with which I was unacquainted. I saw,
also, he was afraid to have me go into the streets, and advised me to
wait till dark, when he would send me in a cart, and a man to open the
gates. I took two or three trunks of the most valuable articles,
together with the medicine chest, to deposit in the house of the
governor; and after committing the house and premises to our faithful
Moung Ing and a Bengalee servant, who continued with us, (though we were
unable to pay his wages,) I took leave, as I then thought probable, of
our house in Ava forever.

"On my return to the governor's, I found a servant of Mr. Gouges, who
happened to be near the prison when the foreigners were led out, and
followed on to see the end, who informed me, that the prisoners had been
carried before the Lamine Woon, at Amarapora, and were to be sent the
next day to a village he knew not how far distant. My distress was a
little relieved by the intelligence that our friend was yet alive, but
still I knew not what was to become of him. The next morning I obtained
a pass from government, and with my little Maria, who was then only
three months old, Mary and Abby Hasseltine, (two of the Burman children)
and our Bengalee cook, who was the only one of the party who could
afford me any assistance, I set off for Amarapora. The day was
dreadfully hot; but we obtai