We began to have gloomy forebodings of the time which must elapse before we could reach England, sailing at this rate, when we saw, lying in the roads at St. Vincent, a very large West Indian steamer on her way home. It was difficult to communicate with this ship, because she lay in quarantine, yellow flag flying; and we did not know whether she had yellow fever on board or not. Our captain, however, called us all together, and said, "I hoped to have found some provisions in this island, to add to our stores; but I find there is nothing." The island seemed just a bare rock, with one solitary palm-tree growing by the office door, and not a blade of grass. It was difficult to imagine what provisions there could be, except the coal left by ships to supply passing steamers. "It will be necessary," added Captain Grenfell, "that some of you should go home in the _Magnolia_, West Indian steamer, for we have not food on board for all, and cannot expect to be less than another month reaching England under sail: therefore you must each of you decide to-night what you will do; and if you choose to go home in the _Magnolia_, I will pay your passage. But I ought to tell you that probably there are cases of yellow fever on board that ship; for it is the time of year when it is rife at the South American stations."
Here was a problem to solve in the night! Should I take my children on board a ship where there was probable infection, or should I subject my husband to harassing anxiety about us for a whole month? In the morning I decided to go home in the _Magnolia_; and I was rewarded when we climbed up into that great ship, with two hundred passengers on board, by finding that there was not a single case of yellow fever, or anything infectious. We had a delightful ten days' passage, stopping a few hours at Lisbon, but not allowed to land, and then straight to Southampton. My only regret was leaving Captain Grenfell, who had been so kind to the children all the way.
The _Bahiana_ took just a month to get to England from St. Vincent.
In 1861 we again returned to our Eastern home, leaving our three children behind, and taking only our baby girl for companion. What a difference it makes in India, to "leave the children behind!"--a common fate indeed for parents, but not the less to be deplored. We used to think and speak of Sarawak as home until 1861; but ever after, we spoke of going home to our children, for where the treasure is there must the heart be also. To do the work so that the time might pass quickly and peacefully, to live upon the mails from England, to carry on two lives as it were, one in the present, the other in the pictures our English letters presented--such at any rate was my fate, though my husband was too true a missionary to feel as I did.