They accordingly carried him carefully down the beach, and placed him in the boat, in the easiest posture they could. Henry Stanwick was able to get on board without much assistance. They rowed slowly back to Sandgate, and having landed their Lieutenant, proceeded on to Folkestone. It was not without difficulty that the wounded man was lifted from the boat; and then, some of his brother townsmen having taken a door off the hinges, and gently laid him on it, set off with slow and heavy steps towards his house. As Waldron had told his wife not to expect him till the next day, she had gone to bed, and was quietly asleep with her children. Hannah Reeves, a poor woman who lived near the pier, had kindly gone forward to prepare Mary for what she had to go through, and knocked gently at her door. She started up in her bed immediately, for the anxious state in which she had been living had accustomed her to awake at the slightest noise. Having put on a few clothes, and struck a light, she hurried down stairs. In the countenance and manner of her kind-hearted neighbour, she immediately saw that she had some sad intelligence to communicate; but when she heard that her husband had been brought to Folkestone severely wounded, her eyes grew dizzy, her head swam, and she would have fallen to the ground had not Hannah supported her. It was no time, however, for giving way to grief, and, by a strong effort, she almost immediately roused herself. Understanding that there might be some difficulty in getting her husband up the narrow winding staircase, she set to work, with the assistance of Hannah Reeves, to bring the matress on which she slept into a little back room, the floor of which was boarded. She made it as comfortable as she could, and had hardly completed her preparations, when the heavy tread of a number of men was heard approaching the door. Mary was unable to speak, but silently assisted in placing her unhappy husband on the bed, that she had got ready for him. The rough weather-beaten countenances of the men who had brought him, were softened to an expression of mournful sympathy; the eyes of several of them were filled with tears. As soon as they found they could be of no farther use, they quietly withdrew. Waldron had hardly shewn any signs of life, excepting by uttering now and then a deep and heavy groan: but when the men were gone, he contrived to raise himself a little in the bed; and taking the hand of his wife, who was hanging over him in speechless agony, said in a voice, almost inarticulate from weakness and emotion, "Oh! Mary, why did I not listen to your advice! I might have earned my bread in an honest way, and been happy with you and the children; but I listened to the persuasion of evil men, and now, smuggling has brought me to this." He would have said more, but the effort which he had made was too much for him--he sank down on the bed, and after one or two deep but feeble groans, expired.