"Aye, but how came you alone, what of Adam and the rest?"
"Nay, 'tis long story."
"But why are you thus solitary, you that do so fear solitude, as I remember."
"When Adam marched away, I stayed to wait for you, Martin."
"For me?"
"Yes, Martin!"
"Were you not afraid?"
"Often," said she, clasping me tighter, "but you are come at last, so are my fears all past and done. And, more than the loneliness I feared lest you should come and find this poor ship all deserted, and lose hope and faith in God's mercy."
"Oh, my brave, sweet soul!" said I, falling on my knees to kiss her hands. "Oh, God love you for this--had I found you not, I should have dreamed you dead and died myself, cursing God."
"Ah hush," said she, closing my lips with her sweet fingers. "Rather will we bless Him all our days for giving us such a love!"
And now having no will or thought to sleep, she sets about preparing supper, while I with scissors, razors, etc. (that she had brought at my earnest entreaty), began to rid my face of its shaggy hair, and busied with my razor, must needs turn ever and anon for blessed sight of her where she flitted lightly to and fro, she bidding me take heed lest I cut myself. Cut myself I did forthwith, and she, beholding the blood, must come running to staunch it and it no more than a merest nick. And now, seeing her thus tender of me who had endured so many hurts and none to grieve or soothe, I came very near weeping for pure joy.
And now as she bustled to and fro, she fell silent and oft I caught her viewing me wistfully, and once or twice she made as to speak yet did not, and I, guessing what she would say, would have told her, yet could think of no gentle way of breaking the matter, ponder how I might, and in the end blurted out the bald truth, very sudden and fool-like, as you shall hear. For, at last, supper being over (and we having eaten very little and no eyes for our food or aught in the world save each other) my lady questioned me at last.
"Dear Martin, what of my father?"
"Why, first," said I, avoiding her eyes, "he is dead!"
"Yes!" said she faintly, "this I guessed."
"He died nobly like the brave gentleman he was. I buried him in the wilderness, where flowers bloomed, three days march back."
"In the wilderness?" says she a little breathlessly. "But he was in prison!"