The northern breeze as it refreshed me was sweeter and more balmy for it seemed to carry some of your spirit along with it.

I often thought that I would instantly return and take you along with me to some fertile island where we should live at peace for ever.

As I returned my fervent hopes were dashed by so many fears; my impatience became in the highest degree painful.

I dared not think that the sun should shine and the moon rise not on your living form but on your grave.

But, no, it is not so; I have my Mathilda, my consolation, and my hope."-- My father was very little changed from what he described himself to be before his misfortunes.