I trust I may be as fortunate
in finding poor Alfred, after my long search for him, as Tommy has been
in finding his father without looking for him at all," was the tenor of
my silent prayer.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

OLD BIGG'S NARRATIVE--MY PLAN TO RESCUE ALFRED--FALL IN WITH AN ARAB
DHOW IN A SINKING STATE--CATCH SIGHT OF THE PIRATE--SHE TRIES TO
ESCAPE--THE CHASE--SHE BLOWS UP--THE FATE OF SILLS.

There is an old saying, that "it's an ill wind that blows no one any
good." I found it a very true saying, for I have scarcely ever known a
misfortune, or what might be called an ill-happening in the world
without, before long, having actually seen some good derived from it, by
which somebody or other has benefited. I do not mean for one moment
that evil may be done that good may come of it. Very, very far from
that. There is no more hateful morality in the sight of God. But what
I mean is, that God often causes events to happen, which we in our
blindness may think ills or misfortunes, but which, in reality, tend to
our ultimate happiness. If we could only bring ourselves firmly to
believe this, it would enable us to bear with far greater patience than
we do the sickness and losses, the sufferings and annoyances which meet
us constantly in our course through life.

The day after we had rescued Tommy Bigg's father from the rock, as I was
walking the deck, he came up to me.

"Sir," said he, touching his hat, "my boy tells me that you have been
his best friend from the time you first set eyes on him, and I am
grateful, sir, indeed I am. I'd do anything to serve you, and from what
Tommy tells me I think I might serve you. I hear from him that you came
away from home to look for a brother, and that you believe he was aboard
the _Dragon_, Now, sir, I belonged to that unfortunate craft, and it was
a bad day for me that I ever set foot on her deck, so I have had reason
to think. I didn't know what her calling was, or I would never have
stepped up her side, that I know.

"Well, sir, when we last sailed from Aden, a young gentleman came on
board for a passage down to Natal. I soon found out that he was a
seaman, though he took no part in the navigation of the brig, but when
he discovered, as I had done, her character, kept himself aloof from the
captain and officers, and, indeed, everybody on board. He did well;
for, to my mind, it would be hard to find a greater villain in existence
than Captain Redman. I would hav