a little more
breathing space. I even was guilty of the illicit proceeding--committed
the outrage, in fact--of endeavoring to break one of my bull's-eyes,
preferring being drenched to dry suffocation in foul air; but my utmost
violence, even assisted with an iron rod, was ineffectual, and I had to
give up breaking that window as a bad job. I found Margery's state-room
one chaos of confusion, she at the same time protesting that everything
was as tidily disposed of as possible; so I had to stand by and show her
where to put every individual article, and having cleared the small
space of the heap of superfluous things with which it was crammed, and
removed the upper berth, I left it to her option whether she or baby
should occupy the floor at night.

At about half-past ten the captain came on board to say that we should
not sail then, but if the wind grew fair, we _might perhaps_ sail in the
afternoon. He then took himself off the vessel, the wind was fast
veering to dead ahead, ... and, with an aching heart and head, I
remained in my berth all day long. In the night a perfect gale arose,
the ship dragged her anchor for two miles, and we had thus much
consolation that, had we put to sea, we should have encountered a
violent storm, and, in all probability been driven back into the Mersey.
This morning the wind was still contrary, and so we at length exerted
ourselves to return to shore. Had we done so yesterday in good time--or,
rather, not gone on board at all, you and I might have spent two more
days together, and the baby and myself been spared considerable misery.
But lamenting cures nothing; ... but I wish we never had left the quay
yesterday morning, for everything showed against the probability of our
sailing, and so here we are back in our old quarters at the Star and
Garter, and you are gone.

We have taken places at the theater for this evening, to see Macready in
"Macbeth." The Captain says we are to sail to-morrow morning, but I
shall do my utmost this time to avoid going on board except in his
company; and then, I think, we shall perhaps have some chance of not
spending another day in vain in our sea-prison.

Ever your affectionate,
F. A. B.

[The foregoing letter gives some idea of the difference between
crossing from England to the United States in those days, and in
these; when a telegram bears the