For several days he saw himself condemned to absolute repose and a
spare diet. His mouth, swollen, excoriated, refused all nourishment;
his throat was burning; his body was covered with an eruption, and his
languid and trembling limbs scarcely permitted him to drag himself to
the stream to quench there the thirst by which he was devoured.

He believed himself about to die; and grief then imposing silence on
pride, with his eyes turned towards the sea, he allowed a
long-repressed sigh to escape his heart. It was a regret for his
absent country.

Very soon these alarming symptoms disappeared; his strength returned;
his water-cresses and wild sorrel completed the cure. Would he have
dared to ask it of the other productions of his island? He had become
suspicious of nature; these, at least, he had long known.

Scarcely had he recovered, when the want of tobacco made itself felt
anew with more force than ever. What to him imports experiment, what
imports danger? Is it not to procure this precious, indispensable
herb,--which the world had easily done without for thousands of years?

This time, nevertheless, become more prudent, he no longer addresses
himself to the sense of taste; but to odor, to that of smell. He has
resolved to dry the different plants which appear to him most proper
for the use to which he destines them, and to submit them afterwards
to a trial by fire. Will not the smoke which escapes from them easily
enable him to discover the qualities which he requires, since it is in
smoke that they are to evaporate, if he succeeds in his researches?