LETTER LII.
June 27, Saturday.
I arrived in ——. I have now but a moment, before the post goes out, to inform you we have got here; though not without considerable difficulty, for we were set ashore in a boat above twenty miles below.
What I suffered in the vessel I will not now descant upon, nor mention the pleasure I received from the sight of the rocky coast. This morning however, walking to join the carriage that was to transport us to this place, I fell, without any previous warning, senseless on the rocks—and how I escaped with life I can scarcely guess. I was in a stupor for a quarter of an hour; the suffusion of blood at last restored me to my senses; the contusion is great, and my brain confused. The child is well.
Twenty miles ride in the rain, after my accident, has sufficiently deranged me, and here I could not get a fire to warm me, or any thing warm to eat; the inns are mere stables, I must nevertheless go to bed. For God’s sake, let me hear from you immediately my friend! I am not well, and yet you see I cannot die.
Yours sincerely
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LETTER LIII.
June 29.
I wrote to you by the last post, to inform you of my arrival; and I alluded to the extreme fatigue I endured on ship-board, owing to ——’s illness, and the roughness of the weather—I likewise mentioned to you my fall, the effects of which I still feel, though I do not think it will have any serious consequences.