In their little bamboo hut, therefore, so frail that it could be cut open, as Mrs. Boardman says, with a pair of scissors, they prosecuted their study of the language under a native teacher, and even ventured to talk a little with the half-wild natives around them, and for a few weeks were unmolested.  Their courage and confidence had revived, and with Mrs. B., restored health brought happiness.  June 20th she writes, “We are in excellent health, and as happy as it is possible for human beings to be upon earth.  It is our earnest desire to live, labor and die among this people.”  With such feelings, they had probably retired to rest on the night of the 24th of June, but awaking towards morning, and perceiving that the lamp which they always kept burning through the night was extinguished, they suspected mischief; and on relighting it, they found to their consternation that their house had been entered by the lawless plunderers mentioned above, and robbed of nearly every valuable article it contained; but how was their horror increased, by finding two large cuts in the moscheto curtains about their bed, through which the murderers had watched their slumbers, ready to stab them to the heart had they offered the slightest resistance, or even had they waked to consciousness.  But He who “giveth his beloved sleep,” had kindly steeped their senses in slumbers so profound and peaceful, that not even the infant stirred, or opened its eyes which would have instantly been sealed again,—­in death.—­Every trunk, box and bureau was rifled, looking-glass, watch, spoons, keys, were gone; and yet as the parents gazed at those rent curtains, and thought how the death-angel had grazed them with his wing as he passed by, their hearts rose in gratitude and praise to their Heavenly deliverer.  But Mrs. Boardman’s feelings are best told in her own expressive words.  She says, “After the first amazement had a little subsided, I raised my eyes to the curtains surrounding our bed, and to my indescribable emotion saw two large holes cut, the one at the head, and the other at the foot of the place where my dear husband had been sleeping.  From that moment, I quite forgot the stolen goods, and thought only of the treasure that was spared.  In imagination I saw the assassins with their horrid weapons standing by our bedside, ready to do their worst had we been permitted to wake.  Oh how merciful was that watchful Providence which prolonged those powerful slumbers of that night, not allowing even the infant at my bosom to open its eyes at so critical a moment.  If ever gratitude glowed in my bosom, if ever the world appeared to me worthless as vanity, and if ever I wished to dedicate myself, my husband, my babe, my all, to our great Redeemer, it was at that time.