add some pages to this journal, written now in the heart
of India, where the fortune of my wandering and proscribed existence has
thrown me--a journal which, alas! my beloved Eva, you may never read--I
experience a sweet, yet painful emotion; for, although to converse thus
with you is a consolation, it brings back the bitter thought that I am
unable to see or speak to you.

"Still, if these pages should ever meet your eyes, your generous heart
will throb at the name of the intrepid being, to whom I am this day
indebted for my life, and to whom I may thus perhaps owe the happiness
of seeing you again--you and my child--for of course our child lives.
Yes, it must be--for else, poor wife, what an existence would be yours
amid the horrors of exile! Dear soul! he must now be fourteen. Whom
does he resemble? Is he like you? Has he your large and beautiful blue
eyes?--Madman that I am! how many times, in this long day-book, have
I already asked the same idle question, to which you can return no
answer!--How many times shall I continue to ask it?--But you will teach
our child to speak and love the somewhat savage name of Djalma."

"Djalma!" said Rose, as with moist eyes she left off reading.

"Djalma!" repeated Blanche, who shared the emotion of her sister. "Oh,
we shall never forget that name."

"And you will do well, my children; for it seems to be the name of a
famous soldier, though a very young one. But go on, my little Rose!"

"I have told you in the preceding pages, my dear Eva, of the two
glorious days we had this month. The troops of my old friend, the
prince, which daily make fresh advances in European discipline, have
performed wonders. We have beaten the English, and obliged them to
abandon a portion of this unhappy country, which they had invaded in
contempt of all the rights of justice, and which they continue to
ravage without mercy, for, in these parts, warfare is another name for
treachery, pillage, and massacre. This morning, after a toilsome march
through a rocky and mountainous district, we received information from
our scouts, that the enemy had been reinforced, and was preparing to act
on the offensive; and, as we were separated from them by a distance of
a few leagues only, an engagement became inevitable. My old friend
the prince, the father of my deliverer, was impatient to march to the
attack. The action began about three o'clock; it was very bloody
and furious. Seeing that our men wavered for a mo