ling him to prepare for guests, two of whom were to accompany him on
his trip to the fleet.

It was a bright, warm day when the guests arrived--a dozen or more
ladies and gentlemen who sympathised with the Mission, accompanied by
the Director.

"All ready for sea, Martin, I suppose?" said the latter, as the party
stepped on board from the wharf, alongside of which the vessel lay.

"All ready, sir," responded Fred. "If the wind holds we may be with the
fleet, God willing, some time to-morrow night."

The _Sunbeam_ was indeed all ready, for the duties on board of her had
been performed by those who did their work "as to the Lord, and not to
men." Every rope was in its place and properly coiled away, every piece
of brass-work about the vessel shone like burnished gold. The deck had
been scrubbed to a state of perfect cleanliness, so that, as Jim Freeman
said, "you might eat your victuals off it." In short, everything was
trim and taut, and the great blue MDSF flag floated from the masthead,
intimating that the Gospel ship was about to set forth on her mission of
mercy, to fish for men.

Among the party who were conducted by Fred and the Director over the
vessel were two clergymen, men of middle age, who had been labouring
among all classes on the land: sympathising with the sad, rejoicing with
the glad, praying, working, and energising for rich and poor, until
health had begun to give way, and change of air and scene had become
absolutely necessary. A week or so at the sea, it was thought, would
revive them.

And what change of air could be more thorough than that from the smoke
of the city to the billows of the North Sea? The Director had suggested
the change. Men of God were sorely wanted out there, he said, and,
while they renewed their health among the fresh breezes of ocean, they
might do grand service for the Master among the long-neglected
fishermen.

The reasoning seemed just. The offer was kind. The opportunity was
good, as well as unique and interesting. The land-worn clergymen
accepted the invitation, and were now on their way to the scene of their
health-giving work, armed with waterproofs, sou'westers, and sea-boots.

"It will do you good, sir, both body and soul," said Skipper Martin to
the elder of the two, when presented to him. "You'll find us a strange
lot, sir, out there, but glad to see you, and game to listen to what
you've got to say as long as ever you please."

When the visitor