"Don't speak," I said.
He cast a frightened look at my face and retired.

At length relief came.
The thunder-cloud of grief poured itself in a torrent of tears, the only ones my persecutors ever wrung from me.

Over the flood of sorrow rose the rainbow of hope.

He is only broken down, I thought; his delicate organisation has succumbed to a trial too great for its strength; rest and generous attention will restore him.

Courage! All will be well.
And all is well.