I had watched the motion of the crew, when the
frigate's boat had first been launched. We rapidly drew near, so that at
length the number and forms of those within could be discerned; its dark
sides grew big, and the splash of its oars became audible: I could
distinguish the languid form of my friend, as he half raised himself at our
approach.

Perdita's questions had ceased; she leaned on my arm, panting with emotions
too acute for tears--our men pulled alongside the other boat. As a last
effort, my sister mustered her strength, her firmness; she stepped from one
boat to the other, and then with a shriek she sprang towards Raymond, knelt
at his side, and glueing her lips to the hand she seized, her face shrouded
by her long hair, gave herself up to tears.

Raymond had somewhat raised himself at our approach, but it was with
difficulty that he exerted himself even thus much. With sunken cheek and
hollow eyes, pale and gaunt, how could I recognize the beloved of Perdita?
I continued awe-struck and mute--he looked smilingly on the poor girl;
the smile was his. A day of sun-shine falling on a dark valley, displays
its before hidden characteristics; and now this smile, the same with which
he first spoke love to Perdita, with which he had welcomed the
protectorate, playing on his altered countenance, made me in my heart's
core feel that this was Raymond.

He stretched out to me his other hand; I discerned the trace of manacles on
his bared wrist. I heard my sister's sobs, and thought, happy are women who
can weep, and in a passionate caress disburthen the oppression of their
feelings; shame and habitual restraint hold back a man. I would have given
worlds to have acted as in days of boyhood, have strained him to my breast,
pressed his hand to my lips, and wept over him; my swelling heart choked
me; the natural current would not be checked; the big rebellious tears
gathered in my eyes; I turned aside, and they dropped in the sea--they
came fast and faster;--yet I could hardly be ashamed, for I saw that the
rough sailors were not unmoved, and Raymond's eyes alone were dry from
among our crew. He lay in that blessed calm which convalescence always
induces, enjoying in secure tranquillity his liberty and re-union with her
whom he adored. Perdita at length subdued her burst of passion, and rose,
--she looked round for Clara; the child frightened, not recognizing her
father, and neglected by us, had crept to the other end of the