d to him in the course of his life.

The Vales felt much for his trouble, and begged him to remain with
them until he could get a passage in some other vessel bound for
England.

[Illustration: THE MAN AT THE WHEEL.]

"And don't take your accident so much to heart," softly whispered
little Katie; "you know mother's favorite proverb--'Every cloud has a
silver lining.'"

"Sometimes, even in this life, we can see the silver edge round the
border," observed Mrs. Vale.

Bolton had too brave a heart and too sensible a mind to give way long
to fretting, though he did not see how so black a cloud as that which
hung over his sky could possibly have anything to brighten its gloom.
He tried to make the best of that which he could not prevent, and
retired to rest that night with a tolerably cheerful face, though with
a violent headache, and a heartache which troubled him more.

Bolton slept very little that night, nor indeed did any one else in
the house; for with the close of day there came on a violent storm
which raged fiercely until the morning. Katie trembled in her little
cot to hear how the gale roared and shrieked in the chimneys, and
rattled the window-frames, and threatened to burst open the doors. The
child raised her head from the pillow, and thanked the Lord that her
sailor friend was not tossing then on the waves.

But far more thankful was Katie when tidings reached New York of what
the storm had done on that terrible night. Bolton was sitting at
breakfast with his friends on the third day after the tempest, when
Vale, who was reading the newspaper, turned to the part headed
"Shipping Intelligence."

"Any news?" inquired Tom Bolton, struck by the expression on the face
of his friend.

Instead of replying, Vale exclaimed, "How little we can tell in this
life what is really for our evil or our good! You called that accident
which prevented your sailing in the Albion an 'unlucky mischance.'"

"Of course I did. My wife and children are impatient to see me--"

"Had you sailed in that ship," interrupted Vale, "they would never
have seen you again. The Albion went down in that storm!"

What was the regret of Tom Bolton on hearing of the disaster, and what
was his thankfulness for his own preservation, I leave the reader to
guess. Often in after days did the little American basket remind him
in his own home of what others might have called the chance that led
him to turn back on his way to the ship, and so cau