Hassan brought her food with his own hands, but she loathed it who only desired to die.

The day turned to night, the night turned to day again, and always Hassan brought her food and strove to comfort her, till at length she remembered no more.
Then came a long, long sleep, and in the sleep dreams of her father standing with his face to the foe and sweeping them down with his long sword as a sickle sweeps corn--of her father felled by the pilgrim knave, dying upon the floor of his own house, and saying "God will guard you.

His will be done." Dreams of Godwin and Wulf also fighting to save her, plighting their troths and swearing their oaths, and between the dreams blackness.
Rosamund awoke to feel the sun streaming warmly through the shutter of her cabin, and to see a woman who held a cup in her hand, watching her--a stout woman of middle age with a not unkindly face.

She looked about her and remembered all.

So she was still in the ship.
"Whence come you ?" she asked the woman.
"From France, lady.