I was very much knocked up yesterday with the durbar of the day before. I never told you—such a horrid idea! That box of yours, with that lovely velvet pelisse—that blue cloak—those little ‘modes’ of Mdlle. Sophie, are all food for sharks, I much fear. Pray always mention the name of the ship by which you send such treasures. You and R. both mentioned that these particular treasures sailed the last week in June; the only two ships in the list that did sail then were the Seringapatam and the Protector.

We have ascertained that the first had nothing for us, and the unfortunate Protector was wrecked at the Sandheads, and only five of the crew saved. There were all sorts of melancholy horrors about the shipwreck, so for a long time it never occurred to me to think about my own little venture in it, but I suppose it must have been there. The passengers, after they had been two days and nights in the boats, were passed by a ship coming to Calcutta, but this ship was in great danger from a squall, and as they were all a great way from land, she could not contrive to shorten-sail, so that the shipwrecked people must have seen a ship pass them without making any sign, just as they were almost at the last gasp.