follow the history of each member of this family step by step. We will
grow them up at once, and tell you what came of all their enthusiastic
desires and lofty aspirations in succeeding chapters.

Only thus much will we say in conclusion; when the blacksmith said it
was time to be off to bed that night, the children rose _at once_; gave
and received a hearty kiss all round, and went off to "turn in," as
sailors express it, "with a will." They had learned _obedience_--the
most difficult lesson that man has got to learn--the lesson which few
learn thoroughly, and which our Lord sets us as a test of our loyalty to
Himself, when He says says,--"If ye love Me, keep My commandments."

CHAPTER TWO.

It was what sailors call a "dirty night." When you looked out upon the
sea, it seemed as if there were nothing there but horrible darkness. If
you went down to the beach, however,--close under the fishing village of
Sunland--you found that there was just enough of light to make the
darkness visible.

Tremendous waves came rolling madly into the bay, their white crests
gleaming against the black sky until they came down like thunder on the
sand. The wind roared and whistled over the bay, cutting off the
foam-tops of the billows, and hurling them against the neighbouring
cliffs. Mingled rain and hail filled the shrieking blast, and horrid
uproar seemed to revel everywhere.

"God have mercy on those at sea," was uttered by many a lip that night.
It was a most suitable prayer! Some there were, doubtless, who uttered
it with a little shudder as they turned in their beds, but said and did
nothing more. Others there were, weak in body perhaps, but strong in
spirit, who reflected, with some degree of comfort, that they had given
of their gold to help those whose business it is to help the perishing.
And there were others who had little gold to give, but who gladly gave
their strong, stalwart bodies, and risked their precious lives to save
the perishing.

Many of these last were on the beach at Sunland that night, with oilskin
coats and caps, cowering in the lee of boats and rocks, or leaning
against the furious gale as they tried to gaze out to sea through the
blinding sleet and spray.

Among these fishermen were two young men--tall and strong--who seemed to
despise shelter, and stood at the very edge of the raging sea. One was
a black-bearded man of the Coastguard. The other, as his dress
betokened, was a Jack-tar of