d Evil were mustering
unseen for a tremendous conflict, on which, perchance, the angels were
permitted to look down with interest, and that the battle-field was to
be the soul of that rugged fisherman of the North Sea! He knew not,
little dreamed of, what was pending; but the Captain of his salvation
knew it all.

There was but one entrance to that battle-field--the gate of man's
Free-will. Through that portal the powers of darkness must enter if
they gained admittance at all. Elsewhere the walls were high as heaven,
deeper than hell, for, except at this point, the fortress was
impregnable.

Yet, although David Bright knew not the power nor the number of the
mighty forces that were marshalling, he was not entirely ignorant of the
war that was going on. There had been some skirmishing already, in
front of the gate, in which he had come off victorious. The demon Habit
had assaulted him more than once, and had pressed him sore; for a
terrible thirst--such, it is said, as only confirmed drunkards
understand--had more than once tormented him. When the first attack was
made, the sturdy fisherman stood quietly on his deck with hands in
pockets and eyes on the horizon, looking as if nothing were going on,
and he smiled grimly as he muttered to himself rather than to the demon:
"Lucky for me that I made Billy heave it overboard!"

"Oh! but," said the demon, "you were a weak fool when you did that.
There's the Coper alongside now; go, get another keg. It is cheap, and
you can just take a little drop to relieve that desperate craving.
Come, now, be a man, and show that you have powers of self-restraint.
You have always boasted of the strength of your will, haven't you? Show
it now."

"Ay, an' prove the strength of my will," replied David, with another
grim smile, "by givin' in to _your_ will. No, devil! I _am_ a fool,
but not quite such a fool as that comes to."

The demon fell back at that and left him.

On the next attack the skipper was worn-out with fatigue and watching.
They had had a long spell of dirty weather. Work of the hardest kind--
even for a hardy frame--had been done, and there was still work to do,
and David's great physical powers were well-nigh used up. The gear was
down, and a stiff nor'-west breeze not only drove the smack over the
surging waves, but caused her to plunge into them like a wild horse
bridled and held back.

"You can't hold out much longer at this rate," whispered the demon.