ind was busy as he gazed into the depths
of the moonlit sky. He thought of home, of the father whom he had so
deeply injured, of the prospects that he had unwittingly blighted, of
his comrade Ben Trench, and his other friends on the Coral Island. As
he continued to think, conscience rose up and condemned him sternly.
Wilkins bowed his head to the condemnation, and admitted that it was
just.

"Oh!" he cried, in a passion of sudden remorse, "O God! spare me to
return home and be a comfort to my father,--my dear, dear father!"

He put his face in his hands and wept bitterly. Sitting thus, overcome
with sorrow and fatigue, he gradually sank lower and lower, until he
slid to the bottom of the boat, and lay at last with his head on the
thwart, in profound slumber. He dreamed of home and forgiveness as he
floated there, the one solitary black spot on the dark breast of the
solemn sea.

CHAPTER SIX.

WATTY WILKINS IS TRIED, COMFORTED, RUN DOWN, RESCUED, AND RESTORED.

When Watty Wilkins awoke from sleep, the sun was high in the heavens and
the sea smooth as a mirror.

The poor boy raised himself on one elbow and looked about him, at first
with a confused feeling of uncertainty as to where he was. Then the
truth burst upon him with overwhelming force. Not only was he alone in
a little, half-decayed boat without sail, rudder, or compass, on the
great Pacific Ocean, but, with the exception of a few fish, he was
without food, and, worst of all, he had not a drop of fresh water.

What was to be done? An unspoken prayer ascended from his heart to God,
as he rose and seized the oars. A belief that it was needful to act
vigorously and at once was strong upon him. For several minutes he
relieved his feelings by rowing with all his might. Then he stopped
abruptly, and his spirit sank almost in despair as he exclaimed aloud--

"What's the use? I don't know where the island is. I may only be
pulling farther away from it. Oh! what shall I do?"

At that moment of extreme depression, the value of having had a
God-fearing father who had taught him the Bible was unexpectedly
realised, for there flashed into his mind, as if in reply to his
question, the words, "Call upon me in the time of trouble; I will
deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me."

He pulled in the oars at once, fell on his knees, and, clasping his
hands, prayed fervently. Watty had been taught a form of prayer in
childhood, and had often used it with