What Mr. Blagge said to me I don’t know, but I now and then heard the sounds of new publications, and letters, and manuscripts, but I could only dwell on the grief that my poor wife was now in; it was too much to expect I could listen to him on such uninteresting subjects; why did he not talk of what he knew was the only feeling of my mind?—and to hold me by the arm too, lest I should get away. The steamboat, however, called all hands aboard, and passengers with all their friends jumped on board to go to the ship, which lay in the stream. I made a move to go also, but the captain, coming up at the instant, told me he would give me ten minutes longer, as he had to see a man on business, and that I could go with him in the ship’s boat which lay there ready for him. The steamboat left the wharf, and Mr. Blagge talked on; I never knew him so loquacious before, and he kept jerking me around as if the nervousness under which I was labouring had imparted itself to his arm. At length the captain returned, and Mr. Blagge, shaking hands with me, promised to look most carefully—and, he added with strong emphasis—most affectionately, after all the concerns I left behind. The oars cut the water, and as soon as we were on board the captain gave orders for sailing. The steamboat was just departing, and on turning my eye towards it I saw poor Mr. Porter. I called out to him that I was safely on board, most thankful that he had seen me, for what would have been the agony of my dear wife if he had returned and reported that the vessel had sailed without me. He entered the boat, thought I, with the intention of seeing me safely to the ship; his consternation must have been great when I was not to be found amongst the passengers. He waved his hat, however, on seeing me as I bent over the side of the vessel, and pressing his hand to his heart he pointed towards the shore—it told me that he intended to fulfil his promise of guarding well the sacred trust I had confided to him.