"I could not say what was false," answered Ned.
The words were simple enough, but the decided tone in which they were uttered, made Bessy exchange glances with her son. The boy shrugged his shoulders slightly, and something like a smile rose to the corners of his lips. The very straightforwardness of the sailor made him appear strange to those who had long mistaken cunning for wisdom, and low deceit for sharpness.
[CHAPTER II.]
SPEAKING OUT.
The table was spread with food, homely but abundant, steaming bacon and greens.
"A twenty miles' walk must have made you ready for your dinner, Ned," said Bessy, as she seated herself at the table, and a well-filled plate was soon before each of the party.
"Why, uncle, what are you waiting for?" asked Dan, surprised that the hungry sailor did not at once begin his meal.
"Bessy," said Ned, quietly, "do you say grace, or shall I?"
Again mother and son exchanged glances. As no answer was given, Ned, in few words, thanked God for His mercies through Christ. This was no mere form with the weather-beaten sailor, who found himself in haven at last, after the tempest and the fight, the hardships and perils of a sea life, and was thankful to God for mercies greater than preservation through all these.
"I'm afraid," said Ned, looking with a good-humoured smile at his plate, "that a maimed Jack-tar such as I am, must signal for assistance even at the mess."