"She is much changed; sorrow and sickness--for she, too, has had the fever--have worn her down. Little remains now of that loveliness----"
"Which I idolised in my folly."
"I tried to turn you from your dream. I knew there was nothing there for your heart to rest upon. I was even angry with you for being the protégé of anyone but myself."
Eleanor bade me go, and I obeyed her, and sailed--and here I am. And she bade me write faithfully the story of my life, and I have done so.
Yes, I have seen the land! Like a purple fringe upon the golden sea. But I shall never reach the land. Weaker and weaker, day by day, with bleeding lungs and failing limbs, I have travelled the ocean paths. The iron has entered too deeply into my soul.
This is an extract from a letter by John Crossthwaite.
"Galveston, Texas, October, 1848.
"And now for my poor friend, whose papers, according to my promise to him, I transmit to you. On the very night on which he seems to have concluded them--an hour after we had made the land--we found him in his cabin, dead, resting peacefully as if he had slumbered."