For Faith and Freedom

by Walter Besant

  CHAPTER XLVI.

  A PERILOUS VOYAGE.

  In this way, unexpected and tragical, arrived our chance of escape.We walked to Carlisle Bay by way of the sea-shore, so that we mightbe met by none, and in order that the bloodhounds (if they shoulduse them) in the morning might be thrown off the track. On the marchthat stout and lusty wench who carried one end of the bed neithercalled for a halt nor complained of the burden she carried all theway. It was nigh unto midnight when we arrived at the creek in whichthe boat lay sunk. This was within a stone's throw of John Nuthall'scottage, where were bestowed the mast, sails, oars, and gear, withsuch provisions as he had gotten together for the voyage. The manwas sleeping when Barnaby called him, but he quickly got up, andin less than an hour we had the boat hauled out of the water, theprovisions hastily thrown in, the mast stepped, our sick man and thewomen placed in the bows, the stern and middle of the boat beingencumbered with our provisions, we had pushed down the muddy andstinking creek, we had hoisted sail, and we were stealing silentlyout of Carlisle Bay under a light breeze. Three or four ships werelying in the bay; but either there was no watch kept aboard, or(which is more probable) it was no one's business to hail a smallsail-boat going out, probably for fishing at dawn. Besides, thenight was so dark that we may very well have escaped notice. Howeverthat might be, in a quarter of an hour we were well out at sea,beyond the reach of the guns of Carlisle Bay, no longer visibleto the ships in port, and without any fear of being seen untildaybreak. The wind, which sometimes drops altogether in the night,still continued favourable, though very light.

  'My lads,' said Barnaby presently, drawing a long breath, 'I verilybelieve that we have given them the slip this time. In the morningthey may go forth, if they please, with their bloodhounds to huntfor us. Let them hunt. If any inquiry is made for us at the Bridge,no boat will be missing, and so no suspicion will be awakened. Theywill then, I suppose, search for us among the caves and ravines ofwhich I have heard, where there are hiding-places in plenty, butno water to drink, so that the poor devils who run away and seek arefuge there are speedily forced to come out for water, and so arecaught or shot down. Well, they will hunt a long time before theyfind us. This boat makes a little water, but I think not much. Ifshe proves watertight, and the breeze holds, by daylight we shouldbe well to the south of the island. Courage, therefore! All will bewell yet! How goes Robin?'

  He was lying as easily as we could manage for him--one rug over himand another under him. Alice sat on one side of him, and the womanthey called Deb on the other. Then, because the boat sometimesshipped a little water when she dipped in the waves, Barnaby riggeda tarpaulin round the bows to prevent this; and (but this was nottill next day) over the tarpaulin he made, out of a rug and a sparespar, a low tilt which, unless the weather grew bad, should shelterthose three by night from dew and spray, and by day from the sunoverhead and the glare and heat of the water.

  'Deb,' he said softly, 'art afraid?'

  'No, sir--not while my mistress is here.' (Meaning Alice.)

  'If we are taken, we shall all be flogged well nigh unto death, andvery likely hanged as well.'

  'I am not afraid, sir.'

  'We may spring a leak,' said Barnaby, 'and so go all to the bottomand be devoured. Art not afraid to die?'

  'No, sir--not if I may hold my mistress by the hand, so that she maytake me whither she goeth herself.'

  'Good,' said Barnaby. 'As for me, I expect I shall have to go aloneor with John Nuthall here. Well, there will be a goodly company ofus. Go to sleep, my girl! In the morning we will serve around thefirst ration, with perhaps, if all be well, a dram of cordial.'

  In the dim light of the stars I watched all night the three figuresin the bow. Robin lay white and motionless; Alice sat, covered withher hood, bending over him; and Deb, from whose head her coif hadfallen, lay, head on arm, sound asleep. She had no fear, any morethan a common soldier has when he goes into action, because hetrusts his captain.

  Thus began our voyage: in an open boat twenty feet long, with acompany of three sound men, two women, and a sick man. For arms, incase we needed them, we had none at all. If any ship crossed ourtrack and should call upon us to surrender we could not deny that wewere escaped convicts, because the dress of all but one proclaimedthe fact. Who, in such a climate, would choose to wear a coarseshirt and canvas breeches, with a Monmouth cap, except it was aservant or a slave who had no choice, but must take what is givenhim?

  But we should not surrender, come what might. If we could neitherfight nor fly, we could sink. Said Barnaby, in the dead of night,whispering in my ear, 'Lad, 'tis agreed between us, we will havethat clear; sooner than be taken, we will scuttle the ship, and sosink all together. If 'tis accounted murder, the blame shall liebetween us.'

  A little before daybreak the breeze freshened, and the waves beganto rise; but not so high as to threaten the boat, which proved,indeed, a most gallant little craft, dancing over the waters asif she enjoyed being driven by the breeze. Some boats, as sailorswill tell you (being always apt to compare these craft with livingcreatures), come thus, frolic and sprightly, from their makers'hands; while others, built of the same material and on the samelines, are, on the contrary, and always remain, heavy and lumpish;just as some children are lively and gay, while others, born of thesame parents, are dull and morose.

  Then the sun rose, seeming to leap out of the water, a most gloriousball of fire, which instantly warmed the cool air and began toburn and scorch our hands and faces. In these hot latitudes oneunderstands what the ancients meant when they spoke of the dreadfulSun-God, who both gives and destroys life, and is so beneficialand yet so terrible. We, who live in a cold country, are sometimesgreatly comforted by the sun, but are never burned; we feel hiswarmth, but understand not his power.

  Then Barnaby began to gaze curiously all round the horizon. We hadno glass or telescope; but his eyes were to him as good as anytelescope is to most men.

  'Thank the Lord!' he said, drawing breath (it was rare for Barnabythus openly to give praise), 'there is no sail in sight. To be sure,we have the day before us. But yet'--here he began to talk as somemen use when they desire to place before their own minds clearlythe position of affairs. 'Very well, then--Barbadoes laying thirtymiles and more nor'-east by north--vessels bound for the islandfrom Bristol commonly sailing round the north--very well, then--weare out of their track. Yet--then again--some are driven south bystress of weather. Ay, there is our danger. Yet again, if one shouldsee us, would she bear down upon us? I greatly doubt it. The windwill continue--that is pretty sure. If they were to discover thatwe had gone by boat, would they sail after us? Why, what boat couldthey send? And whither would they steer? And what boat have theythat can sail faster than this little craft? Yet we are pretty lowdown in the water. Humphrey, lad'--he turned upon me his broad andsunburnt face, full of cheerfulness--'we are not within many hoursof scuttling yet. A tight boat, a fair wind, a smooth sea--let ushope for the best! How goes Robin?'

  There was no change in Robin, either for better or for worse.

  'Sis,' said Barnaby; 'art sleeping still, Sis? Wake up, and letus eat and drink, and be jolly! What! Alice, I say! Why--we haveescaped! We are far away at sea! Let us laugh and sing. If therewere room in this cockle, I would dance also!'

  She lifted her head, and threw back her hood. Ah! what a mournfulface was there!

  'Oh, brother!' she said, 'canst thou laugh and sing? Hast thouforgotten last night?'

  'Why, no,' he replied. 'One must not forget last night, because itwas the night of our escape. All else, I own, I can forget. Let itnot stick in thy gizzard, my dear, that the man frightened thee.Rejoice rather that he thus afforded me a chance of giving him ataste of his own cold iron.'

  'Nay, brother,' she said, shaking her head; then she looked roundher. 'We are a long way from the land,' she said. 'When will theysend out a ship to bring us back?'

  'Why, d'ye see,' Barnaby replied, 'give us twelve hours more, andthey may send out all their fleet, if the
y have one, and sail thewide world round for us, and yet not capture us. And now let usoverhaul the provisions, and examine the ship's stores.' Alicepulled her hood down again, and said no more. The woman they calledDeb was now wide awake, and staring about her with the greatestsatisfaction.

  'Come, John Nuthall,' Barnaby went on, 'we are hungry and thirsty.Where is the list I made for thee? Thou art our purser, oursupercargo, our cook, and our steward; thou art also bo's'n andcarpenter, and half the crew. Where is my list, I say? Give it me,and we will examine our stores. Look up, Sis; never cry over whatis done and over. What? A villain hath received a lesson, and thouhangest thy head therefor? Look up, I say. There is now hope forall; thou shalt merrily dance at my wedding yet.'

  Then he read the list, and examined each parcel or box with greatcare.

  'A hundred and a half of bread, a soft cheese, plantains, a keg ofwater (nine gallons), six bottles of Canary (not one broken), acompass, a half-hour glass, a spare rug ('tis over Robin's legs),flint and steel, a bit of tarpaulin, a hatchet and hammer, a saw,some nails, a spar or two, a coil of rope and yarn, a lump oftobacco (we can chew it, though I would rather put it into a pipe),candles--faugh! they are run together in a lump; they will serve tocaulk something presently.'

  We had, in fact, no light during our voyage, but the tallow proveduseful when--I think it was the next day--the boat started a leak.

  This was all our store. 'Twas not much for six people, but Barnabyhoped that the voyage would be short. If he should be disappointed,who would not put up with short rations for a day or two for thesake of freedom?

  'And now,' he said, when everything was stowed according to hismind, 'we will have breakfast. Our provisions are no great things;but, after the accursed loblollie, a bit of bread and cheese will bea feast.'

  A feast indeed it was, and our captain gratified us further byopening a flask of Canary, which raised all our hearts. Strangethat men should be able to recover their spirits, which should beindependent of the creature comforts, by a dram of wine. As forBarnaby, I thought he would have kissed the bottle.

  'It is now three months and more,' he said, 'that we have hadnothing save a sup of kill-devil fresh from the still, and now weare mercifully permitted to taste again a glass of Canary. 'Tis toomuch!' he sighed, drinking his ration. 'Well, we have but a fewbottles, and the voyage may be longer than we hope; therefore wemust go upon short allowance. But fear not, Sis; there shall alwaysbe enough for Robin, poor lad.'

  He then proceeded to tell us what he intended, and whither he wouldsteer.

  'We have no chart,' he said. 'What then? I can draw one as good asthey are made to steer by in these seas.' He could not draw one,because he had no paper or pencil; but he carved one with the pointof his knife on the seat, and marked out our course upon it dayby day. 'See,' he said, 'here is Barbadoes. Our course all nighthath been sou'-west. She now makes five knots an hour. It is noweight, I take it; and we must therefore be about forty miles fromBarbadoes. To-morrow morning we should make the Grenadilloes, whichare a hundred and fifty miles from Carlisle Bay. Hark ye! There maybe a Bristol vessel sailing from Great Grenada to Barbadoes, orthe other way. That would be the devil. But such ships are rare,and there is no trade between the two islands. Well, we shall giveGrenada as wide a berth as may be.' Here he considered a little.'Therefore, 'twill be our wiser plan to bear more to the south. Oncesouth of Grenada, I take it, there will be no more danger. Off themain of South America the sea is covered with islands. They are NoMan's Land; inhabitants have they none; navigators, for the mostpart, know them not; English, French, and Spanish ships come neverto these islands. My purpose, therefore, is to put in at GreatMargaritos or Tortuga for rest and fresh water, and so presentlymake the Dutch island of Curacao.'

  'And after that?'

  'Then, my lad, we shall take ship to some country where a sailormay get a berth and a physician may find patients. It must be toHolland first; but, never fear, we shall get back to England sometime; and perhaps fight another battle with a different tale to tellafterwards.'

  As the day advanced, the coast of Barbadoes continually receded,until, before sunset, the island lay like a purple cloud low down inthe horizon. The north-east breeze blew steadily, but the sun causeda most dreadful heat in the air, and our eyes smarted from the glareof the water and the spray that was blown upon us. It was at thistime that Barnaby constructed the tilt of which I have spoken. Thesea lay spread out round us in a broad circle, of which we were thecentre, and the cloudless blue sky lay over us like unto a roof laidthere for us alone. It is only in a ship one doth feel thus alone,in the centre of creation; even as if there were nothing but the seaaround, the sky above, and our boat in the centre. Thus must thePatriarch Noah have felt when his ark floated upon the vast faceof the water, and even the tops of the high hills were hidden andcovered over. All day Barnaby scanned the horizon anxiously; butthere came into sight no sail or ship whatever. To us, who sometimessee the vessels lying in a crowded port, and hear how they bringargosies from every land, it seems as if every part of the oceanmust be covered with sails driving before the wind from whateverquarter it may blow. But he who considers the 'Mappa Mundi' willpresently discover that there are vast expanses of sea where nevera sail is seen, unless it be the fugitive sail of the pirate or thebark canoe of the native. We were now nearing such a lonely sea orpart of the ocean. Barnaby knew, what these planters did not, how tosteer across the unknown water to a port of safety beyond.

  At midday our captain served out another drink of water, and toRobin I gave a sop of bread in Canary, which he seemed to suck upand to swallow with readiness.

  In such a voyage, where there is nothing to do but to keep the shipon her course and to watch the horizon for a strange sail, onespeedily falls into silence, and sits many hours without speech;sometimes falling asleep, lulled by the ripple of the water as theboat flies through it.

  I have said nothing about the man John Nuthall. He was a plain,honest-looking man, and we found him throughout all this businessfaithful, brave, and patient, obedient to Barnaby, and of an eventemper and contented with his share. That he had formerly been athief in his native country cannot be denied, but I hope that weshall not refuse to any man the right of repentance.

  Barnaby divided the crew--namely, himself, John Nuthall, andme--into three watches of eight hours each, of which each man kepttwo at a stretch. Thus, beginning the day at noon, which was theonly time we knew for certain, Barnaby would himself (but this wasafter the first two days) lie down and sleep till sunset or a littlelater. Then John Nuthall lay down and took his turn of sleep tillBarnaby thought it was two o'clock in the morning, when he woke himand I took his place. But for the first day or two Barnaby slept notat all, and the whole of the voyage he slept as a good watch-dogsleeps--namely, with one eye open.

  At sunset he gave out another pannikin of cold water to each of us,a ration of bread and cheese, and a dram of wine. Then he commandedJohn Nuthall to lie down and sleep, while I took the tiller and hehimself held the ropes. Then the night fell once more upon us.

  Presently, while we sat there in silence, Alice rose up from herseat and came aft and sat down beside me.

  'Humphrey,' she whispered, 'think you that he is truly dead?' Shewas speaking, not of Robin, but of the Master.

  'I know not, my dear.'

  'I can think of nothing but of that man's sudden end, and of whatmay happen to us. Say something to comfort me, Humphrey! You alwayshad some good word to say, like manna for refreshment. My soul islow in the dust--I cannot even pray.'

  'Why, my dear?' What could I say? ''Tis true that the man was struckdown, and that suddenly. And yet----'

  'To think that my brother--that Barnaby--should have killed him!'

  'Why,' said Barnaby, 'if some one had to kill him, why not I as wellas another? What odds who killed him?'

  'Oh!' she said, 'that a man should be called away at such a moment,when his brain was reeling with wine and wicked thoughts!'

  'He wa
s not dead,' I told her (though I knew very well what wouldbe the end), 'when we came away. Many a man recovers who hath hada sword-thrust through the body. He may now be on the mend--whocan tell?' Yet I knew, I say, very well how it must have ended.'Consider, my dear: he tempted the wrath of God, if any man everdid. If he is destroyed, on his own head be it--not on ours. If herecover, he will have had a lesson which will serve him for therest of his life. If he doth not recover, he may have time lefthim for something of repentance and of prayer. Why, Alice, if weget safely to our port we ought to consider the punishment of thissinner (which was in self-defence, as one may truly say) the verymeans granted by Providence for our own escape. How else should wehave got away? How else should we have resolved to venture all, evento carrying Robin with us?' All this, I repeat, I said to encourageher, because, if I know aught of wounds, a man bleeding inwardlyof a sword-thrust through his vitals would have short time for thecollecting of his thoughts or the repentance of his sins, being astruly cut off in the midst of them as if he had been struck down bya thunderbolt. A man may groan and writhe under the dreadful tortureof such a wound, but there is little room for meditation or forrepentance.

  Then I asked her if she was in fear as to the event of the voyage.

  'I fear nothing,' she told me, 'but to be captured and taken backto the place whence we came, there to be put in prison and flogged.That is my only fear. Humphrey, we have suffered so much that thislast shame would be too great for me to bear. Oh! to be tied upbefore all the men, and flogged like the black women--'twould killme, Humphrey!'

  'Alice,' I said very earnestly, 'art thou, indeed, brave enough toendure death itself rather than this last barbarity?'

  'Oh! Death!--death!' she cried, clasping her hands. 'What is deathto me, who have lost everything?'

  'Nay, but consider, my dear. To die at sea--it means to sink downunder the cold water out of the light of day; to be choked for wantof air; perhaps to be devoured quick by sharks; to lie at the bottomof the water, the seaweed growing over your bones; to be rolledabout by the troubled waves----'

  'Humphrey, these are old wives' tales. Why, if it had been lawfulI would have killed myself long ago. But I must not lose heaven aswell as earth. A brief pang it is to die, and then to be happy forever. What do I care whether the seaweed covers my bones, or thecold clay? Oh, Humphrey, Humphrey, why should I care any longer tolive?'

  'My dear,' I said, 'if we escape in safety there may yet behappiness in store. No man knoweth the future.' She shook her head.'Happiness,' I told her, 'doth not commonly come to man in the waywhich he most desires and prays. For, if he doth obtain the thingfor which he hath so ardently prayed, he presently finds that thething bringeth not the joy he so much expected. Or it comes toolate, as is the case often with honours and wealth, when one footis already in the grave. I mean, my dear, that we must not despairbecause the thing which most we desired is taken from us. Perhapswe ought not to desire anything at all, except what the Lord shallprovide. But that is a hard saying, and if men desired nothing itis certain they would no longer work.' I talked thus at length todivert her mind from her troubles. 'To thee, poor child,' I said,'have been given afflictions many and great--the loss of godlyparents, a husband whom thou must avoid, and the deprivation ofearthly love. Yet, since thou art so brave, Alice, I will tellthee--I thought not to tell thee anything of this----'

  'What, Humphrey? What?'

  'Briefly, Alice, thou shalt not be taken alive.'

  'How--unless you kill me?'

  'We are agreed, my dear--Barnaby and I--that if we cannot escapeany boats which may pursue us the boat shall be sunk, and so weshall all drown together. Indeed, Alice, I confess that I am notmyself so much in love with life as to return to that captivity andintolerable oppression from which we have gotten away. Therefore, beassured, we will all drown rather than go back.'

  'Oh!' she sighed, but with relief, 'now shall I fear nothing. Ihave not lost everything, since I have thee still--and Barnaby.Alas! my head has been so full of what Madam said--that we shouldbe certainly caught, and all of us flogged. To be flogged!Who would not rather die?'--she shivered and trembled. 'To beflogged!--Humphrey, I could not bear the shame!' She trembled andshivered as she repeated this confession of fear.

  'Fear not, my dear,' I said; 'there are those on the boat who lovethee too well to suffer that extreme of barbarity. Put that fear outof thy mind. Think only that we may have to die, but that we shallnot be taken. To die, indeed, is very likely our fate: for we havebut a quarter of an inch of frail wood between us and the seas. Ifa storm should arise, we fill with water and go down; if the windshould drop we should be becalmed, and so perish miserably of hungerand thirst; if Barnaby steer not aright----'

  'Humphrey,' said Barnaby, 'fill not her innocent head with rubbish.'Tis not the time of tornadoes, and there will be no storm. The windat this season never drops, therefore we shall not lie becalmed. Andas for my steering aright, why, with a compass--am I a lubber?'

  'Brother,' she said, 'if I am not to be flogged, the rest concernsme little. Let us say no more about it. I am now easy in my mind.Robin sleeps, Humphrey. He hath slept since the sun went down, andthis afternoon he looked as if he knew me. Also, he took the breadsopped in Canary eagerly, as if he relished it.'

  'These seas,' said Barnaby, 'are full of sharks.'

  I knew not what he meant, because we were speaking of Robin.

  'Sharks have got their senses, as well as humans,' he went on.

  Still I understood him not.

  'When a man on board a ship is going to die, the sharks find it out,and they follow that ship until he does die and is flung overboard.Then they devour his body and go away, unless there is more tofollow. I have looked for sharks, and there are none following theboat; wherefore, though I am not a doctor, I am sure that Robin willnot die.'

  'I know not at all,' I said, 'how that may be. There are many thingsbelieved by sailors which are superstitions--fond beliefs nourishedby the continual presence of perils. On the other hand, the sensesof man are notoriously as far below those of creatures as hisintellect is above them (yet a skilful man may read the premonitionof death in a sick man's face). Therefore I know not but a shark mayhave a sense, like unto the eye of a hawk or the scent of a hound,with which to sniff the approach of death afar off. Let us comfortourselves, Alice, with Barnaby's assurance.'

  ''Tis a well proved and tried thing,' said Barnaby; 'and sailors,let me tell thee, Master Doctor, have no superstitions or idlebeliefs.'

  'Well, that may be. As to Robin's disease, I can pronounce nothingupon it. Nay, had I the whole library of Padua to consult, I couldlearn nothing that would help me. First, the mind falls into alanguishing and spiritless condition. That causeth the body to lieopen to attacks of any disease which may be threatening. Then, thebody, being ill at ease, works upon the mind, and causes it towander beyond control. So that the soul, which is bound up with bodyand mind, cannot show herself or manifest her will. It is the willwhich shows the presence of the soul: the will which governs bodyand mind alike. But if I know aught of disease, if a change comesupon Robin it will either swiftly cure or swiftly kill.'

  'Humphrey,' she whispered, 'if he recover, how shall I meet hisface? How shall I reply when he asks me concerning my faith?'

  'My dear, he knows all. 'Twas that knowledge, the pity of it,and the madness of it, believe me, which threw him into so low acondition.'

  'I have looked daily for reproaches in thy kind eyes, Humphrey. Ihave found none, truly. But from Robin--oh! I dare not think ofmeeting those eyes of his.'

  'Reproach thee will he never, Alice. Sorrow and love, I doubt not,will lie in his eyes all his life. What thou hast done was for himand for thy father and thy brother and for all of us. But, oh! thepity--and the villainy! Fear not to meet the poor lad's eyes, Alice.'

  'I long to see the light of reason in those dear eyes--and yet Ifear. Humphrey, I am married; but against my will. I am a wife, andyet no wife; I am resolved that, come what may,
I will never, nevergo to my husband. And I love my Robin still--oh!' she sobbed, 'Ilove my Robin still!'

  'If we die,' I told her, 'you shall go down with your arm round hisneck, and so you shall die together.'

  Then we sat silent a while.

  'My dear,' I said, 'lie down and take some sleep.'

  'I cannot sleep, Humphrey, for the peace of mind which hath fallenme upon. If Robin now come to his senses again I shall not fear him.And the night, it is so peaceful--so cool and so peaceful;' thewind had dropped, till there was barely enough to fill the sail,and only enough way on the boat to make a soft murmur of the wateralong her sides. 'The sea is so smooth; the sky is so bright and sofull of stars. Can there be, anywhere, a peace like this? Alas! ifwe could sail still upon a silent and peaceful ocean! But we mustland somewhere. There will be men, and where there are men thereis wickedness, with drink and wrath and evil passions--such as wehave left behind us. Humphrey--oh! my brother Humphrey!--it would besweet if the boat would sink beneath us now, and so, with Robin'shand in mine, we could all go together to the happy land, wherethere is neither marrying nor giving in marriage.'

  From beneath the tilt there came a voice--I verily believe it wasan answer sent straight from heaven to comfort this poor faithfulsoul. 'Alice'--it was the voice of Robin, in his right mind at last.'Alice,' he said, 'we will continue to love each other, yet withoutsin.'

  'Oh, Robin! Robin!' she moved quickly to his side and fell upon herknees. 'Robin, thou wilt recover?'

  'Stay!' I interposed. 'Robin will first have a cup of cordial.'

  'I have been sleeping,' he said; 'I know not what hath happened.We are in a boat, it seems, and on the open sea. Unless I am stilldreaming, we are slaves to a planter in Barbadoes! And this isAlice--who was in England! And I know not what it means.'

  'You have been ill, Robin,' I told him. 'You have been nigh untodeath. Many things have happened of which we will speak, butnot now. Alice is at your side, and Barnaby is navigating theboat. Drink this cup of wine--so--sleep now; and in the morning,if it please Heaven, you shall be so strong that you shall heareverything. Ask no more questions, but sleep. Give him your hand,Alice.'

  She obeyed me, sitting at his side and taking his hand in hers, andso continued for the rest of the night, Robin sleeping peacefully.

  In a word, he was restored. The fresh sea-breeze brought him back tolife and reason; and, though he was still weak, he was now as soundin his mind as any man could desire to be. And in the morning wetold him all that had been done, whereat he marvelled.

  Alice might love him still. That was most true, yet between themstood her husband. Why, there was another man in the boat who alsoloved a girl he could never wed. His passion, I swear, was full ofconstancy, tenderness, and patience. Would Robin be as patient?

  When the day broke again we were still sailing over a lonely sea,with never a sail in sight, and never a sign of land.

  And now Robin was sitting up, his face pale, and his hands thin. Butthe light of reason was in his eyes, and on his lips such a smile oftenderness as we were wont to see there in the days of old.

  'Said I not,' cried Barnaby, 'that he would recover? Trust thesharks for common-sense. And again an open sea, with never a sail insight. Praise the Lord, therefore!'

  But Alice, when the sun rose above the waves, threw back her hoodand burst forth into singing:--

  O Lord, how glorious is Thy grace, And wondrous large Thy love! At such a dreadful time and place, To such as faithful prove.

  The tears came into my eyes only to see the change that had fallenupon her gracious, smiling countenance. It was not, truly, the sweetand happy face that we remembered before her troubles fell upon her,but that face graver with the knowledge of evil and of pain. And nowit was like unto such a face as one may see in many an altar-piecein Italy, glorified with gratitude and love.

  Then the woman called Deb fell to weeping and blubbering for veryjoy that her mistress looked happy again. 'Twas a faithful, lovingcreature.

  'Humphrey,' said Alice, 'forgive me that I murmured. Things thatare done cannot be undone. Robin is restored to us. With three suchbrothers, who should not be content to live? I hope, now, that weshall get safely to our port; but if we die, we shall die contentedin each other's arms. Going through the Vale of Misery,' she addedsoftly, 'we will use it as a well.'