On landing, Willmington hurried up the magnificent walk of almond-trees, which lead from King’s-wharf, into Port-of-Spain. He pursued his way through the city, and scarcely recognised the many wondering friends and acquaintances, who proceeded forward to congratulate him on his return, for they had heard of the accident which had befallen the ship in which he had taken passage; and also of the manner in which he, in particular, was treated.
When he had arrived at the beautiful Savannah which lies at the Northern-end of the city, he diverged into a footpath that led to the beautiful villas with which Saint Ann’s-road is ornamented. He quickly walked up the road a little way, and immediately stopped at the gate of a magnificent and romantic suburban house that stood in solitary grandeur, amidst the beautiful trees that belted it.
He rang at the gate-bell, and was immediately admitted by the servant, who started back, and almost went into hysterics at seeing his master back again.
“Gad bless me, massa, da you, or you ’pirit?” inquired that official, as he opened the gate and let his master in, who, without noticing the wonderment of the man, rushed into the house.
“Ah! is it you, Mr. Willmington?” said his wife, with fear, surprise, and joy, all confusedly pictured on her face.
“Heavens be praised, and thanked,” and she embraced him affectionately.
“Tell me, tell me all about the accident that befell you,” she asked.
“Not to-day, dear,” answered Willmington; “not to-day, dear. Only thank Providence that I am again safe. I shall relate everything when I am more composed.”