“Mr. Morgan,” said she presently, “both my father and I are deeply grateful to you. You saved our lives, and your kindness and tenderness to a helpless old man I shall never forget. I thank you for him and for myself. My father’s name,” here there was a faint indication of a return of the smile, “is Caleb Millward, and mine is Alice.”
I asked her how her father had passed the night, and was informed that he had slept almost continuously, and was still slumbering peacefully. Then I told her that I thought her father was suffering from paralysis, produced, probably, by cerebral hemorrhage; that some small blood vessel had burst in the brain, and that if this could become absorbed in a reasonably short period he would probably recover the use of his faculties either wholly or partially; that we could only await results, keeping him warm, well nourished and quiet; that I believed this was all the best of doctors could do for him, and that we must put our trust in his good constitution and the favor of the Almighty, and hope for the best.
I learned from her account that her father, Caleb Millward, was a missionary, whose work for the past five years had been among the coolie laborers, of whom large numbers from Hindostan and the lower provinces of China had been imported into various of the West India Islands, under what has been known as the contract-labor system, only another name for slavery. Her mother had died several years before, during a yellow fever epidemic, and since her death the Rev. Mr. Millward had broken up his permanent home station, and had travelled in a regular circuit from point to point in his little schooner, making a complete round in a period of about six months. It was on one of these trips, while sailing from one small island to another, that the series of mishaps took place which resulted in their being cast away. There was on board only her father, herself, and a young Jamaican of English descent, who was employed to help sail the boat, and to take care of the vessel when in port. The voyage they were at the time engaged upon, was a traverse of about twenty miles. The wind was fair with no appearance of bad weather. Suddenly a tremendous wave was seen approaching, not parallel with the swell but at an angle thereto. All three saw it coming down. Her father called out to the Jamaican to lower some sail, and the Jamaican was forward at this work, when the sea struck the boat with tremendous force and dashed him overboard, and also tore loose the water cask and carried it away. The Jamaican never rose to the surface. Her father, she said, appeared to be wonderfully affected by the accident, and soon grew faint and half stupid. Presently partially recovering, he set the sails so that the boat was hove to under the sail that she subsequently bore, then almost immediately sank down unconscious. He remained thus all day breathing heavily, and then came to, but was unable to move. So they drifted without water, until the storm came and they were drenched with spray. After a long period of suffering they were rescued as we have seen. This was the story of their disaster. Leaving Miss Millward to watch the stew, I went up to the house, and finding the old man now awake gave him a thorough rubbing with my hands,--a sort of massage treatment,--until the circulation of the blood was evident on the surface. This seemed to do him good. Then I put on his clothes, now dry, and returned to the fire.