Thirteen men reported slain are well and sound, and your husband among them.
Shall I waken her, to feel her sorrow sharpened by my happiness? No; I will keep it within my own bosom till the morrow.
Stephen, I thought better of you!
And who do you think I saw standing on deck, well and hearty, only a bit thinner than he was five months ago?
Your husband, he and three others saved themselves on a spar when the Blessing turned bottom upwards. The brig will beat into the bay by daylight, with this wind, an you’ll see him here tomorrow. There’s the comfort I bring you, Mary, and so good night.
My poor sister! you will waken too soon from that happy dream