d more taciturn than ever, but radically
changed, from that hour, in soul and spirit.

CHAPTER THIRTY.

THE CLIMAX REACHED AT LAST.

As the calm weather continued in the afternoon, Joe Davidson tried to
persuade Captain Bream to pay the _Evening Star_ a visit, but the latter
felt that the excitement and exertion of preaching to such earnest and
thirsting men had been more severe than he had expected. He therefore
excused himself, saying that he would lie down in his bunk for a short
time, so as to be ready for the evening service.

It was arranged that the skipper of the mission smack should conduct
that service, and he was to call the captain when they were ready to
begin. When the time came, however, it was found that the exhausted
invalid was so sound asleep that they did not like to disturb him.

But although Captain Bream was a heavy sleeper and addicted to sonorous
snoring, there were some things in nature through which even he could
not slumber; and one of these things proved to be a hymn as sung by the
fishermen of the North Sea!

When, therefore, the Lifeboat hymn burst forth in tones that no
cathedral organ ever equalled, and shook the timbers of the mission-ship
from stem to stern, the captain turned round, yawned, and opened his
eyes wide, and when the singers came to--

"Leave the poor old stranded wreck, and pull for the shore,"

he leaped out of his bunk with tremendous energy.

Pulling his garments into order, running his fingers through his hair,
and trying to look as if he had not been asleep, he slipped quietly into
the hold and sat down on a box behind the speaker, where he could see
the earnest faces of the rugged congregation brought into strong relief
by the light that streamed down the open hatchway.

What the preacher said, or what his subject was, Captain Bream never
knew, for, before he could bring his mind to bear on it, his eyes fell
on an object which seemed to stop the very pulsations of his heart,
while his face grew pale. Fortunately he was himself in the deep shadow
of the deck, and could not be easily observed.

Yet the object which created such a powerful sensation in the captain's
breast was not in itself calculated to cause amazement or alarm, for it
was nothing more than a pretty-faced, curly-haired fisher-boy, who, with
lips parted and his bright eyes gazing intently, was listening to the
preacher with all his powers. Need we say that it was our friend Billy