Of his loved voice, her senses, like a flight.
Of scatter'd doves, came fluttering back, and took.
Their rest within his close embrace; while Peggy
Quick ran to tell the joyful news, and fetch
Her father, mother, brother Ben. And when
They came, and fulness of first happiness
Had calm'd a little, Charley told them how
His messmate, brave Will Hardy, had been cause
That he still lived and safely had returned.
" My friend," he added, " is at hand; he did
But stay to let my mad impatience have
Its way. Had his advice been taken, he
Would first have come, and broken the glad news;
But I could not restrain my eagerness,
And dear I might have paid for my——- " He look'd
At Mary, stopp'd, and then went on. " Will's here;
I'll hail him; he shall tell you all the yarn
Of our adventures." Saying this, he gave
A seaman's shout; and through the porch there came
A bronzed young mariner, with aspect frank,
And handsome open face, who made himself
At once at home, and took his seat among
The cottage circle as he'd been a part
Of it from childhood: willingly he told
The story of his friend's and his own last
Sea-voyage; how the good ship Antelope
Had sail'd to distant unfrequented regions,
'Mid spicy islands, groved with lofty trees
Of palmy foliage, thick with jungle-wood
And rampant climbing plants, that flung their arms
In wanton lush luxuriance around
The tallest barks, festooning all the space
With garlands, drooping blossoms, pendent fruits
Of gorgeous hue; high stems behung with nuts
Colossal, rough of rind, with milky core;
Stiff spiky leaves with thorny edge, in midst
Of which rose stately pine-apples, brown gold;
And store of roots delicious, yielding food
Abundant, succulent: and told them how
In one of these far islands it bechanced
That Charley and himself, with certain of
Their crew, were sent ashore for water fresh:
"The springs," said Will, " lay up a little way
Beyond the beach, among green slopes that show'd
In emerald brightness 'gainst a dark thick wood;
And straight for these we made. We had been there
Before, though no one had we seen; the place
Seem'd uninhabited; no creatures save
The birds, who flew about in myriads,
With jewell'd wings and throats of amethyst,
Of ruby, topaz, sapphire; living gems
They glanced amid the trees. We'd fill'd our casks,
And were returning to our ship, when pounced
Upon us, like a swoop of hawks, a horde
Of savage creatures, wild and scarcely men;
So brutish were their motions, glaring eyes,
And spring ferocious, leaping at our throats,
And dashing with their clubs abrupt assault.
We kept them off as stoutly as we could,
With knives and cutlasses drawn forth at haste.
But numbers made them more than match for us.
Pell-mell they drove our messmates to their boats,
While Charley and myself were left behind:
For he had been the foremost in the fray,
And now lay senseless on the earth; a blow
Had struck him, and with dull, deep, heavy thud
He fell, with utterance of a sharp-forced cry."

Here Ben half broke into some question; but
Suppress'd it, held his breath, and Will went on:
"I raised him in my arms and bore him tow'rds
The shadow of the wood, to screen him from
The burning sun, and hide him from the horde,
Who might come back; but they return'd no more,
And solitude the most profound was mine,
Within the deep recesses of the dark
Green forest, gloom'd with thickly woven roof
Of overarching giant trees: and one
There was so huge, so aged and decay 'd,
Its trunk was hollow as a cave; and this
I made our hut. I heap'd a bed of leaves,
And laid my friend thereon, and search'd his wound:
'Twas on his head, a ghastly bruising dint,
That stunn'd him into death-like torpor; pulse
There seem'd none; breath unheard; all colour gone:
I thought his life extinct, and could have wept
Hot woman's tears upon his marble face.
But near at hand I found a freshet clear,
And laved his temples with the crystal cold
Until a merest flitter stirr'd his lids,
That made my heart leap up; it show'd me that
He lived.

"He lived, indeed, but hardly lived;
So slender was the thread mysterious
That held vitality within him: long
He lay in that condition, corpse-like white
And motionless; but when at length he woke
To consciousness, fierce fever seized him, and
He raved in wild distraction; to and fro
His head turn'd ceaselessly; his arms, flung wide,
Were toss'd in vain endeavour, madly tried
To throw himself from off his couch of leaves,
And struggled with me to be up, away,
Away to England, home, and you: for so
His ravings ever ran: ' I must be back!
I promised! They expect me! Hold me not,
I say! I must, I will be back!' Then changed
His tone to gentlest deprecation, low
And plaintive, humbly suppliant: ' Dear God,
Deny me not! Vouchsafe me to return!
Oh, let them see me there at home! I said
I would be there, if such were Thy good will!
And let it be Thy will, dear God! Oh, let
It be Thy will! I cannot stay away!'
And then his earnestness would ramble off
Into faint mutterings of ' Mary's hair,'
' Those gentle, wistful eyes that soft beseech
Me to return'—- of ' Peggy's merry glance
And witching smile that beckon me to come'——
And so would sigh and shiver tremblingly,
Sink down despondent, only to fling forth
Again his arms, and start into fresh raves
Of wandering delirium.

"And so
The dreary time went by, until one day,——
'Twas Christmas-eve,——he lapsed into a state
Akin to that first dreadful torpor: stretch'd
He lay, in lethargy so absolute,
His senses steep'd in such profound oblivion,
The spirit seem'd indeed to have left its cage
Of flesh, and wing'd its flight far, far away.
I knew he was not dead, for still I felt
At intervals the dull deep sluggish beat
Of his slow-toiling heart, like muffled boom
Of minute-gun from some distressèd ship
At sea: but as I watch'd him through those long,
Long six-and-thirty hours of trance, I ask'd
Myself the question, o'er and o'er again:
' His spirit is not here, 't has pass'd its bars
And flown; but whither flown?——unto the skies
Not yet 'tis gone. Then where? On earth? O'er sea?