you will find us still alive.

"Allan, my dearest, I have one more thing to say, though I must say it
shortly, for the paper is nearly finished. I do not know, supposing
that you are alive and well, whether you still care for me, who left you
so long ago--it seems years and years--but _my_ heart is where it was,
and where I promised it should remain, in your keeping. Of course,
Hernan has pressed me to marry him, and my father has wished it. But I
have always said no, and now, in our wretchedness, there is no more talk
of marriage at present, which is the one good thing that has happened to
me. And, Allan, before so very long I shall be of age, if I live.
Still I dare say you no longer think of marriage with me, who, perhaps,
are already married to someone else, especially as now I and all of us
are no better than wandering beggars. Yet I have thought it right to
tell you these things, which you may like to know.

"Oh, why did God ever put it into my father's heart to leave the Cape
Colony just because he hated the British Government and Hernan Pereira
and others persuaded him? I know not, but, poor man, he is sorry enough
now. It is pitiful to see him; at times I think that he is going mad.

"The paper is done, and the messenger is going; also the sick child is
dying and I must attend to her. Will this letter ever come to your
hands, I wonder? I am sending with it the little money I have to pay
for its delivery--about four pounds English. If not, there is an end.
If it does, and you cannot come or send others, at least pray for us. I
dream of you by night and think of you by day, for how much I love you I
cannot tell.

"In life or death I am