I find it difficult even to write; my hands shake so that they are not under control, and I am trembling all over with memory of the horrors we saw enacted before our eyes.

I am grieved beyond measure that I should be, however remotely, a cause of this horror coming on you.

Forgive me if you can, and do not think too hardly of me.

This I ask with confidence, for since we shared together the danger--the very pangs--of death, I feel that we should be to one another something more than mere friends, that I may lean on you and trust you, assured that your sympathy and pity are for me.

You really must let me thank you for the friendliness, the help, the confidence, the real aid at a time of deadly danger and deadly fear which you showed me.