of quiet splendour it certainly was--the sea as calm as glass,
insomuch that it reflected all the fleecy clouds that hung in the bright
sky. Even the ocean-swell had gone to rest with just motion enough left
to prove that the calm was not a "dead" one, but a slumber. All round,
the numerous vessels of the Short Blue fleet floated in peaceful
idleness. At every distance they lay, from a hundred yards to the
far-off horizon.

We say that they floated peacefully, but we speak only as to appearance,
for there were other hells in the fleet, similar to that which we have
described, and the soft sound of distant oars could be distinguished now
and then as boats plied to and fro between their smacks and the Coper,
fetching the deadly liquid with which these hells were set on fire.

Other sounds there were, however, which fell pleasantly on the ears of
the two listeners.

"Psalm-singers," said Billy.

"They might be worse," replied Ned. "What smack does it come from,
think 'ee?"

"The _Boy Jim_, or the _Cephas_--not sure which, for I can't make out
the voices. It might be from the _Sparrow_, but that's it close to us,
and there could be no mistake about Jim Frost's voice if he was to
strike up."

"What! has Jim Frost hoisted the Bethel-flag?"

"Ay, didn't you see it flyin' last Sunday for the first time?"

"No, I didn't," returned Ned, "but I'm glad to hear it, for, though I'm
not one o' that set myself. I do like to see a man not ashamed to show
his colours."

The flag to which they referred is supplied at half cost to the fleet by
the Mission to Deep-Sea Fishermen--and is hoisted every Sabbath-day by
those skippers in the fleet who, having made up their minds boldly to
accept all the consequences of the step, have come out decidedly on the
Lord's side.

While the two shipmates were conversing thus in low tones, enjoying the
fresh air and the calm influences around them, the notes of an accordion
came over the water in tones that were sweetened and mellowed by
distance.

"Ha! that's Jim Frost now," said Billy, in subdued excitement, while
pleasure glittered in his eyes. "Oh! Ned, I _does_ like music. It
makes my heart fit to bu'st sometimes, it does. An' Jim plays that--
that what's 'is name--so beautiful!"

"His accordion," said Ned.

"Yes--his accordium--"

"No, Billy, not accordium, but accordion."

"Well, well--no matter. I don't care a button what you calls it, so
long as Jim plays it. Why,