"Yes, we _have_ a story, grandpa," said Edward, with emphasis and excitement; "but Harold should tell it; he could do it better than I."

"No, no," Harold said; "you are as good a story-teller as I."

"There!" laughed Herbert. "I believe I'll have to do it myself, or with your extreme politeness to each other you'll keep the audience waiting all night.

"The storm came suddenly upon us when we were about half way home, or maybe something more; and it presently became evident that we were in imminent danger of wreck. The captain soon concluded that our only chance was in letting the Edna drive right before the wind, which would take us in exactly the direction we wished to pursue, but with rather startling celerity; and that was what he did.

"She flew over the water like a wild winged bird, and into the harbor with immense velocity. Safely enough, though, till we were there, almost at the wharf, when we struck against another vessel anch.o.r.ed near, and actually cut her in two, spilling the crew into the water."

"Don't look so horrified, mother dear," said Harold, as Herbert paused for breath; "no one was drowned, no one even hurt."

"Barring the wetting and the fright, as the Irish say," added Edward.

"But the latter was a real hurt," said Harold; "for the cry they sent up as they made the sudden, involuntary plunge from their berths, where they were probably asleep at the moment of collision, into the cold, deep water of the harbor, was something terrible to hear."

"Enough to curdle one's blood," added Herbert.

"And you are quite sure all were picked up?" asked Elsie, her sweet face full of pity for the unfortunate sufferers.

"Yes, mother, quite sure," answered Edward; "the captain of the craft said, in my hearing, that no one was missing."

"And the captain of the other will probably have pretty heavy damages to pay," remarked Mr. Dinsmore.

"I presume so," said Edward; "but even that would be far better than the loss of his vessel, with all the lives of those on board."

"Money could not pay for those last," Elsie said, low and tremulously, as she looked at her three tall sons through a mist of unshed tears; "and I will gladly help the Edna's captain to meet the damages incurred in his efforts to save them."

"Just like you, mother," Edward said, giving her a look of proud, fond affection.

"I entirely approve, and shall be ready to contribute my share," said her father. "But it is very late, or rather early--long past midnight--and we should be getting to bed. But let us first unite in a prayer of thanksgiving to our G.o.d for all His mercies, especially this--that our dear boys are restored to us unharmed."

They knelt, and led by him, all hearts united in a fervent outpouring of grat.i.tude and praise to the Giver of all good.

CHAPTER XIII.

"Hitherto hath the Lord helped us."--1 SAMUEL 7:12.

It was a lovely Sabbath afternoon, still and bright; Elsie sat alone on the veranda, enjoying the beauty of the sea and the delicious breeze coming from it. She had been reading, and the book lay in her lap, one hand resting upon the open page; but she was deep in meditation, her eyes following the restless movements of the waves that, with the rising tide, dashed higher and higher upon the beach below.

For the last half hour she had been the solitary tenant of the veranda, while the others enjoyed their siesta or a lounge upon the beach.

Presently a noiseless step drew near her chair, some one bent down over her and softly kissed her cheek.

"Papa" she said, looking up into his face with smiling eyes, "you have come to sit with me? Let me give you this chair," and she would have risen to do so, but he laid his hand on her shoulder, saying, "No; sit still; I will take this," drawing up another and seating himself therein close at her side.

"Do you know that I have been watching you from the doorway there for the last five minutes?" he asked.

"No, sir; I deemed myself quite alone," she said. "Why did you not let me know that my dear father, whose society I prize so highly, was so near?"

"Because you seemed so deep in thought, and evidently such happy thought, that I was loath to disturb it."

"Yes," she said, "they were happy thoughts. I have seemed to myself, for the last few days, to be in the very land of Beulah, so delightful has been the sure hope--I may say certainty--that Jesus is mine and I am His; that I am His servant forever, for time and for eternity, as truly and entirely His as words can express. Is it not a sweet thought, papa?

is it not untold bliss to know that we may--that we shall serve Him forever? that nothing can ever separate us from the love of Christ?"

"It is, indeed--Christ who is our life. He says, 'Because I live, ye shall live also;' thus He is our life. Is He not our life also because He is the dearest of all friends to us--His own people?"

"Yes; and how the thought of His love, His perfect sympathy, His infinite power to help and to save, gives strength and courage to face the unknown future. 'The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? the Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?'

'Surely, goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life.'

"In view of the many dangers that lie around our every path, the many terrible trials that may be sent to any one of us, I often wonder how those who do not trust in this almighty Friend can have the least real, true happiness. Were it my case, I should be devoured with anxiety and fears for myself and my dear ones."

"But as it is," her father said, gazing tenderly upon her, "you are able to leave the future, for them and for yourself, in His kind, wise, all-powerful hands, knowing that nothing can befall you without His will, and that He will send no trial that shall not be for your good, and none that He will not give you strength to endure?"

"Yes, that is it, papa; and oh, what rest it is! One feels so safe and happy; so free from fear and care; like a little child whose loving earthly father is holding it by the hand or in his strong, kind arms."

"And you have loved and trusted Him since you were a very little child,"

he remarked, half musingly.

"Yes, papa; I cannot remember when I did not; and could there be a greater cause for grat.i.tude?"

"No; such love and trust are worth more to the happy possessor than the wealth of the universe. But there was a time when, though my little girl had it, I was altogether ignorant of it, and marvelled greatly at her love for G.o.d's word and her joy and peace in believing. I shall never cease to bless G.o.d for giving me such a child."

"Nor I to thank Him for my dear father," she responded, putting her hand into his, with the very same loving, confiding gesture she had been wont to use in childhood's days.

His fingers closed over it, and he held it fast in a warm, loving grasp, while they continued their talk concerning the things that lay nearest their hearts--the love of the Master, His infinite perfection, the interests of His kingdom, the many great and precious promises of His word--thus renewing their strength and provoking one another to love and to good works.

"Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to another; and the Lord hearkened, and heard it; and a book of remembrance was written before Him for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon His name.

"And they shall be mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels; and I will spare them, as a man spareth his own son that serveth him."

Ere another week had rolled its round, events had occurred which tested the sustaining power of their faith in G.o.d, and the joy of the Lord proved to be indeed their strength, keeping their hearts from failing in an hour of sore anxiety and distress.

The evening was bright with the radiance of a full moon and unusually warm for the season; so pleasant was it out of doors that most of our friends preferred the veranda to the cottage parlors, and some of the younger ones were strolling about the town or the beach.

Betty had gone down to the latter place, taking Lulu with her, with the captain's permission, both promising not to go out of sight of home.

"Oh, how lovely the sea is to-night, with the moon shining so brightly on all the little dancing waves!" exclaimed Lulu, as they stood side by side close to the water's edge.

"Yes," said Betty; "doesn't it make you feel like going in?"

"Do people ever bathe at night?" asked Lulu.

"I don't know why they shouldn't," returned her companion.