"But I am getting confused, I find. The bearer of your letter, poor young man, is no more--he died this morning of yellow fever. And who do you think is appointed to the Spider?--why, Henry De Walden, once more--nothing, you see, but Henry de Walden! "To make a long story short, Mr Duquesné has now given his consent to their union, but old Sir Oliver, who exercises a _great_, and to me unaccountable control over Henry, will not hear of it, until he is made commander, so they must both live in hope; but for the moment, they are but too happy to be extricated from the gloomy slough of despond in which they had made up their minds they were both set fast. My father, mamma, Mr Duquesné, Sophie, and Henry De Walden, all unite in kindest regards to you. And now, my dearest Benjamin, do not be alarmed at this blistered manuscript; my heart is melting, and weeping relieves me, but I am not unhappy--oh, no--but anxious--oh, _how_ anxious!--I will now retire to my closet, and cast myself before the rock of my trust, and pray to my God, and your God, in whose great hand we stand, to bless us both; and speedily, _if_ it be his good pleasure, to bring us once more together, never to be parted. I am fond and foolish, Benjamin--fond and foolish--but I know to whom I write. The seaman who waits for the letters is ordered on board, and I must conclude. Give my love to your uncle--I am sure I shall _love him_--tell him he _must love_ me, for your sake, if not for my own. Once more adieu, and God bless you. "Your own affectionate "HELEN HUDSON." "P.S.--Dicky has scrambled up on my knee, to give me a kiss to send to his _papa_. He bids me say that 'Billy, de sheep, quite well; only him hair wont curl any more, like Dicky's, but begin to grow straight and ugly, like Mr Listado's." CHAPTER IX. OCCIDENTAL VAGARIES. Early on the Monday, we accordingly started on our journey, and that evening arrived at very comfortable quarters in St Ann's bay. We did not get under weigh next morning until the sun was high--it was nearly ten in the forenoon, as we had only to go the length of Prickly Pear cottage that day, a property belonging to a crony of mine uncle's, at which we had promised to dine and spend the night on our way to St Thomas in the Vale, where we were to call a halt, to attend some military dinner or another at Bogwalk tavern.