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us too. The hour of extremest distress was come; but you have been sent for our comfort."—"And your comfort, please God! I will be," cried the captain with energy: "you are my own dear child, and your little ones shall be mine too. Dry up your tears: better days, I hope, are approaching."
Evening was now coming on, and it was too late to think of changing lodgings. The captain procured a neighbour to go out for some provisions and other necessaries; and then took his leave, with a promise of being with his niece early the next morning. Indeed, as he proposed going to pay a visit to her husband, she was far from wishing to detain him longer. He went directly thence to the hospital; and, having got access to the apothecary, begged to be informed of the real state of his patient Bland. The apothecary told him that he laboured under a slow fever, attended with extreme dejection of spirits; but that there were no signs of urgent danger. "If you will allow me to see him," said the captain, "I believe I shall be able to administer a cordial more effectual, perhaps, than all your medicines." He was shown up to the ward where the poor man lay, and seated himself by his bedside. "Mr. Bland" said he, "I am a stranger to you; but come to bring you some news of your family." The sick man roused himself, as it were, from a stupor, and fixed his eyes in silence on the captain. He proceeded—“Perhaps you may have heard of an uncle that your wife had in the East Indies—he is come home, and—and—I am he." Upon this, he eagerly stretched out his hand, and taking that of Bland, which was thrust out of the bedclothes to meet it, gave it a cordial shake. The sick man's eyes glistened: he grasped the captain's hand with all his remaining strength, and, drawing it to his mouth, kissed it with fervour. All he could say was, "God bless you!—be kind to poor Amelia!" "I will—I will," cried the captain, "I will be a father to you all—cheer up—keep up your spirits—all will be well!" He then, with a kind look and another shake of the hand, wished him a good night, and left the poor man lightened at once of half his disease.
The captain went home to the coffee-house where he lodged, got a light supper, and went early to bed. After meditating sometime with heartfelt satisfaction on the work of the day, he fell into a sweet sleep, which lasted till day-break. The next morning early, he rose, and sallied forth in search of furnished lodgings. After some inquiry, he met with a commodious set, in a pleasant airy situation, for which he agreed. He then drove to Amelia, and found her and her children neat and clean, and as well dressed as her poor wardrobe