"Where is he? Where are the rest?"
Then says I, with as much courage as I could muster, but with pain that went to my heart—
"I am the only man who has come back." And with that I hung my head, not to see their grief.
"He is not dead—they are not all lost!" I heard her say, in a tone that seemed mingled with, a silent prayer to merciful God.
"No," says I; "Sir Harry is not dead. I left him out there in Guiana; but for the rest, if they be lost, 'tis their just reward."
Then Lady Biddy burst into tears to know that her lover lived, and Sir Bartlemy, taking her by the arm and me by mine, led us into the dining-hall without speaking.
By this time, Lady Biddy's emotion being passed, and her pride returning, she took her arm from her uncle's, as if she would not accept of kindness that was equally bestowed on such as I.
"Sit ye down there, Benet," says my uncle, pushing me to a seat; "and now tell us all as briefly as you may; for I perceive that the case is bad (with a plague to it!) though Harry live (God be thanked!); and if there be a tooth to come out, the quicker it's done the better."
Then I told the bare truth: how Rodrigues and Ned Parsons had led the crew astray and set us ashore, and the means of my coming again to England, in as few words as I could shift with. When I had made an end of this, Lady Biddy was the first to speak.
"Why did not Sir Harry come back with you?" says she.