I whispered the question to the sky and sea, ... solemn silence seemed to invest the atmosphere, and marvellous calm. No other answer came than this, ... a deep and charmëd peace, that insensibly stole over my fretting conscience, my remorseful soul, my aching heart, my tired mind. I remembered certain words heard long ago, and lightly forgotten. “Him who cometh unto Me will I in no wise cast out.” Looking up to the clear heavens and radiant sun, I smiled; and with a complete abandonment of myself and my fears to the Divine Will, I murmured the words that in my stress of mystic agony had so far saved me,—
“God only! Whatsoever He shall choose for me in life, in death, and after death, is best.”
And closing my eyes, I resigned my life to the mercy of the soft waves, and with the sunbeams warm upon my face, I slept.
· · · · ·
· · ·
·
I woke again with an icy shudder and cry,—rough cheery voices sounded in my ears,—strong hands were at work busily unfastening the cords with which I was bound, ... I was on the deck of a large steamer, surrounded by a group of men,—and all the glory of the sunset fired the seas. Questions were poured upon me, ... I could not answer them, for my tongue was parched and blistered, ... lifted upright upon my feet by sturdy arms, I could not stand for sheer exhaustion. Dimly, and in feeble dread I stared around me,——was this great vessel with smoking funnels and grinding engines [p 478] another devil’s craft set sailing round the world! Too weak to find a voice I made dumb signs of terrified inquiry, ... a broad-shouldered bluff-looking man came forward, whose keen eyes rested on me with kindly compassion.
“This is an English vessel,” he said—“We are bound for Southampton. Our helmsman saw you floating ahead,—we stopped and sent a boat for rescue. Where were you wrecked? Any more of the crew afloat?”
I gazed at him, but could not speak. The strangest thoughts crowded into my brain, moving me to wild tears and laughter. England! The word struck clashing music on my mind, and set all my pulses trembling. England! The little spot upon the little world, most loved and honoured of all men, save those who envy its worth! I made some gesture, whether of joy or mad amazement I know not,——had I been able to speak I could have related nothing that those men around me could have comprehended or believed, ... then I sank back again in a dead swoon.
They were very good to me, all those English sailors. The captain gave me his own cabin,—the ship’s doctor attended me with a zeal that was only exceeded by his curiosity to know where I came from, and the nature of the disaster that had befallen me. But I remained dumb, and lay inert and feeble in my berth, grateful for the care bestowed upon me, as well as for the temporary exhaustion that deprived me of speech. For I had enough to do with my own thoughts,—thoughts far too solemn and weighty for utterance. I was saved,—I was given another chance of life in the world,—and I knew why! My one absorbing anxiety now was to retrieve my wasted time, and to do active good where hitherto I had done nothing!
The day came at last, when I was sufficiently recovered to be able to sit on deck and watch with eager eyes the approaching coast-line of England. I seemed to have lived a century since I left it,—aye, almost an eternity,—for time is what the Soul makes it, and no more. I was an object of interest and attention among all the passengers on board, for as yet I had [p 479] not broken silence. The weather was calm and bright, ... the sun shone gloriously,—and far off the pearly rim of Shakespeare’s ‘happy isle’ glistened jewel-like upon the edge of the sea. The captain came and looked at me,—nodded encouragingly,—and after a moment’s hesitation, said—
“Glad to see you out on deck! Almost yourself again, eh?”