It was long indeed--for hours are long to the suspended hopes and fears of any--before the faintest whisper could narrate the miseries of that dismal light. In faint, very faint, whispers did the sufferer unfold to his kind attendants the catastrophe which had occurred. Ellen knew her father's intention to keep watch in the chapel; but she thought of his anxieties, what they must be if any report should reach him of the fate of his crew and the loss of Latimer. Happy, very happy, was she in being the blessed instrument of his recovery, though even that might be a longer work than she expected. She was thankful that a whisper could be heard, that a consciousness of her care had come to the sufferer. This, indeed, had come long before he could express it. When he could, it was exquisite pleasure so to do. Oh! how grateful do we all feel to the kind hands which minister to our wants in sickness! When are we more virtuous? When are we more thankful? When is our love more lively than when, unable to do anything for ourselves, we find a helping hand to lift up our weary head, and to place it upon our softened pillow? Religion comes never sweeter in her influences than when she approaches our sick bed, and tells us how grateful we ought to be to our God. How sweet is the first sleep after struggling nature, restored from exhaustion, relieved from exertion, is lulled into repose, by the rest of tenderness. 'Blessed, indeed, are all they who provide any comfort for the sick and needy; they shall find relief when they are themselves in need of help.' In prayer for Ellen, came Latimer's first repose; and the maid of the castle then gave orders for a boat to be prepared for the first sound of the Priory matin-bell. De Freston was the first to hear that sound and to rise from his watch, to open the chapel-door, and, with a calm composure, to receive the congratulations of the brotherhood. Well did he know that he could afford no assistance to Latimer, if he were drowned in the Orwell; and well he knew that the monks could best administer to the wants of his men. He walked forth, therefore, from his devotions with no surprise; nor was he astonished to find his boat ready, the water baled out, all his men equipped in dry clothes, and quite anxious to pass over to Freston Tower. He thanked the learned fraternity for their kindness, paid all the customary fees, and promised what he knew he could well perform for their attention to his people. He walked to the shore, thinking of his daughter; and before he could embark--though the tempest had passed away, yet the waters were greatly troubled--he beheld that daughter approaching from her Tower to convey tidings which every soul upon that beach was glad to hear. 'Alas! my child,' exclaimed De Freston, as his beauteous Ellen rushed to his arms, 'where is Latimer?' 'Safe, my dear father, in your own castle.' 'Then God be praised for his mercies!'