1st December.—On the Maldah River.—I went to sleep on board my bamboo boat last night previous to my voyage, for I can call it nothing less.… I had to embark in a country boat so small I could hardly stand upright—indeed, I could not; but go I must, even in this boat, rather than wait. Besides my earnest desire to get to Calcutta, the inducement of Mrs. Grant being on the river at the same time was a great one; to have any recourse in case of sickness or accident, I regarded as a most fortunate circumstance, being still dreadfully at a loss for the man George took with him to Calcutta.

I think I never before felt so low and heartsick as last night when I took possession of my floating habitation, for the first time in my life utterly alone, without a living soul who could understand one word I spoke. It was not in human nature to repress the sad remembrance and contrast of situation then with the time on which I first embarked on the Ganges, accompanied by Niel and surrounded by every comfort.

The only servant I could bear near me was his old bearer, and, apathetic as they usually are, this poor creature seemed so careful about me, it almost appeared he understood what was passing in my mind. He had been at work all the evening removing my things and arranging them the best way he could imagine.