'Amen! amen! amen!' was the response from all; and soon were they all, beneath happier auspices, passing over those now less formidable waves, to the welcome precincts of Freston Tower. CHAPTER XXII. WOLSEY. How fared the friends of De Freston, Daundy, Wolsey, the aged Sparrow, Samson, Felawe, Fastolf, Gooding, Cady, and such as were connected with the ancient borough of Ipswich, who were anxious to show respect more to the living lord than the dead St. Ivan? That night was death to the venerable Wolsey, the father of the scholar. The boat he was in got aground on Long Island, and the waters, at that period, were so full, as to fill all the flats of the Greenside, now called Greenwich Farm; so that the whole of that night was spent upon the shore, by this aged man, who was exposed to the rain and wind, and he never recovered from the ill effects of it. Robert Wolsey had been in his own boat, manned with his own six men, who were accustomed to convey his stores from his wharf and lands at Stoke; for Robert Wolsey was a man of some substance in those days--a large agriculturist and dealer in ships' stores, and especially in the victualling of all his Majesty's ships in the ports of Ipswich and Harwich. The old man returned home the next day, having been taken off Long Island by his rich relatives' men, who came in quest of him the morning after the storm. Dame Joan was full of anxiety at the night, and at the delay, and dreaded the worst; but the worst was yet to come, for Robert Wolsey returned alive, took to his bed, and though, nursed with care, and supposed to be almost convalescent soon after making his last will and testament in the presence of Mr. Richard Farrington, suddenly declined and died, to the great grief of all his friends and connexions. Wolsey was summoned from his college to attend upon the funeral of his father, and to administer to his last will and testament. His grief was heavy at the loss of a kind hand; but he started when he heard of the interest his friend Latimer had excited in the heart of Ellen De Freston. Never did his hopes receive so severe a blow as when he learnt, from his mother's lips, that Lord De Freston had consented to acknowledge Latimer as the future guardian of his lovely daughter. His mourning had a double weight--a burthen insurmountable to many, and even in his strong mind, not without a degree of weakness which changed the current of his years, and made him what the never would have been, the highest and most exalted subject in the realm, and afterwards the one most prostrate.