r in gentle tones, as
though the tribulations through which they had passed had softened their
hearts, and bound them together in a holier than earthly affection.

As Mr. Watts and three sailors had died, the vessel was short-handed,
but not crippled; and the captain decided to prosecute his voyage
without putting into any port for assistance. Mr. Lincoln was appointed
chief mate, and a second mate was selected from the forecastle.
Everything went along as before the storm burst upon the devoted vessel.

"How happy I am, Noddy!" exclaimed Mollie, as they sat on deck one
afternoon, when she had nearly recovered her strength. "My father was
saved, and I am saved. How grateful I am!"

"So am I, Mollie," replied Noddy.

"And how much we both owe to you! Wasn't it strange you didn't take the
fever?"

"I think it was."

"Were you not afraid of it?"

"I didn't think anything about it, any way; but I feel just as though I
had gone through with the fever, or something else."

"Why?"

"I don't know; everything looks odd and strange to me. I don't feel like
the same fellow."

Mollie persisted in her desire to know how the cabin-boy felt, and Noddy
found it exceedingly difficult to describe his feelings. Much of the
religious impressions which he had derived from the days of tribulation
still clung to him. His views of life and death had changed. Many of
Bertha's teachings, which he could not understand before, were very
plain to him now. He did not believe it would be possible for him to do
anything wrong again. Hopes and fears had been his incentives to duty
before; principle had grown up in his soul now. The experience of years
seemed to be crowded into the few short days when gloom and death
reigned in the vessel.

The Roebuck sped on her way, generally favored with good weather and
fair winds. She was a stanch vessel, and behaved well in the few storms
she encountered. She doubled Cape Horn without subjecting her crew to
any severe hardships, and sped on her way to more genial climes. For
several weeks after his recovery, Captain McClintock kept very steady,
and Mollie hoped that the "evil days" had passed by. It was a vain hope;
for when the schooner entered the Pacific, his excesses were again
apparent. He went on from bad to worse, till he was sober hardly a
single hour of the day. In vain did Mollie plead with him; in vain she
reminded him of the time when they had both lain at death's door; in
vain she assu