u were with our James when he was struck down in battle, and he
thought of us all here! Bless him!"

The old man could say no more. I told him how he not only thought of
them, but prayed for them, and spoke of the great comfort which the
prayers his mother had taught him had been to him, especially in his
last mortal agony.

The old woman alone wept, but not vehemently. They had long before this
heard of his death. My message rather brought comfort than sorrow.

After a time George came in--a sturdy young man, with well-knit limbs,
and round, good-humoured countenance, with the universal smock, and
shoes few legs but such as his could lift. When I spoke of James, his
countenance grew sad, and, rising from his three-legged stool, he left
the cottage, and did not return for nearly half an hour.

One daughter came in from milking the cows at a neighbouring farm. She
reminded me of James. How neat and clean she looked, even coming from
work! and how modest and retiring in her manner! She might have been
pretty--I don't remember: she was far better than pretty, I judged from
all she said. Her sisters were away at service, I found. She asked
many questions about James; and though her voice was more than ever
subdued when she mentioned his name, my replies seemed to give her
satisfaction. But I had the sense gradually to leave off talking of my
dead shipmate, and began to tell them of the adventures I had gone
through, and of the strange scenes I had witnessed.

There was an old black oak desk, or sloping board, near the small
latticed window in the thick wall. On the desk was a large well-worn
Bible open, with a green spectacle-case to keep down the page. After
supper the old man approached it, as was evidently his custom; and,
while all sat round in reverential silence, he began to read slowly and
distinctly, though not without difficulty, from the Word of God. One
thing struck me--that he read not for form's sake, but that he and his
hearers might reap instruction for faith and practice from what he read.
He was evidently aware of the truth, that those sacred pages before him
were written for our instruction, to be a guide unto our feet, and a
light unto our path. Then he prayed--his words came from his heart--for
all present, and for guidance and protection for those absent. He did
not forget our king and country, and pleaded that God would prosper
England's arms by sea and land in a righteous struggle.