'My dear,' I said, 'lie down and take some sleep.'
'I cannot sleep, Humphrey, for the peace of mind which hath fallen me 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;' the wind 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 water along her sides. 'The sea is so smooth; the sky is so bright and so full of stars. Can there be, anywhere, a peace like this? Alas! if we could sail still upon a silent and peaceful ocean! But we must land somewhere. There will be men, and where there are men there is wickedness, with drink and wrath and evil passions—such as we have left behind us. Humphrey—oh! my brother Humphrey!—it would be sweet if the boat would sink beneath us now, and so, with Robin's hand in mine, we could all go together to the happy land, where there is neither marrying nor giving in marriage.'
From beneath the tilt there came a voice—I verily believe it was an answer sent straight from heaven to comfort this poor faithful soul. 'Alice'—it was the voice of Robin, in his right mind at last. 'Alice,' he said, 'we will continue to love each other, yet without sin.'
'Oh, Robin! Robin!' she moved quickly to his side and fell upon her knees. '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 still dreaming, we are slaves to a planter in Barbadoes! And this is Alice—who was in England! And I know not what it means.'
'You have been ill, Robin,' I told him. 'You have been nigh unto death. Many things have happened of which we will speak, but not now. Alice is at your side, and Barnaby is navigating the boat. Drink this cup of wine—so—sleep now; and in the morning, if it please Heaven, you shall be so strong that you shall hear everything. Ask no more questions, but sleep. Give him your hand, Alice.'
She obeyed me, sitting at his side and taking his hand in hers, and so continued for the rest of the night, Robin sleeping peacefully.
In a word, he was restored. The fresh sea-breeze brought him back to life and reason; and, though he was still weak, he was now as sound in his mind as any man could desire to be. And in the morning we told him all that had been done, whereat he marvelled.
Alice might love him still. That was most true, yet between them stood her husband. Why, there was another man in the boat who also loved a girl he could never wed. His passion, I swear, was full of constancy, tenderness, and patience. Would Robin be as patient?