90 THE SHIPWRECK,

CHAPTER XII.

he Fever — Melancholy Reminiscences — Thoughts on Eternity.

Tue naturally robust constitution of Count D’Estaing
had been greatly disordered since his sojourn in this isle,
parily by the mental trouble arising from the too probable
loss of his uncle and many dear friends who were with
him in the Achilles, partly by the remorse his past follies
had given birth to, and partly by the impatience that he
indulged at finding himself in a situation rendered so much
the more intolerable by the almost effeminate indulgences
to which he had been from his infancy accustomed. His
excessive fatigues and exertions had, moreover, contributed
greatly to his now most wretched condition. The dewsin
that climate often prove fatal to those who are even once
exposed to their pestiferous influences: and yet Charles’s
only bed had been the arid rock, or the damp grass that
grew beneath his favourite tree.

He had lost his hat when the long boat had been en-
gulfed in the tempestuous waves, and however trifling such