"Are you afraid the water will be in, Ben?"
"Oh no, your honour," said the sailor, touching the little bit of hair upon his forehead, "we're more than four feet above water at this window; but I was a-thinking, your honour, of the storm on the Sea of Galilee, and how our Saviour caused a great calm: it was a wonderful thing, and I dare say it made a good many believe on Him as didn't believe before. St. Mark says there was also some little ships besides the one Christ was in, and I dare say there was a good many in those ships as didn't believe Him at all; but it just wanted that great tempest to frighten 'em and make 'em believe."
"It might, indeed," replied Hubert, into whose heart a new light had suddenly shone, "for God, who knows all hearts, knew what was in theirs."
"True, your honour, and it's the same now; many men won't believe the Gospel until they are like, as it were, in the tempest, obliged to be struck down with illness, or such-like, I mean."
With the concluding words the sailor left the cabin, and Hubert sat down to read all about that storm on the Sea of Galilee; he had read it before, but never with such an interest as now, and it reminded him of the tempest that had once come upon him; and he saw a deep truth in the sailor's remark, that it is the storm that drives the sinner to Christ. Then he sat and wondered what he must do to try and convince his stranger friend of these things, and the prayer was almost upon his lips that some terrible tempest might overwhelm him, if it would bring him to the footstool of Jesus.
That night, as though in answer to his heart's desire, Hubert dreamt that his friend was "a vessel meet for the Master's use," and in a joyous burst of feeling he awoke.
"I know it, I am sure of it," he said to himself "he is a believer; a backslider, perhaps, but not a sceptic." And he longed for the daylight to come, that he might again seek his friend; and as he lay awake during the remainder of the night, he tried to throw many of the incidents of his own life round that of the stranger. He would give anything almost to hear something more of his history; what he had told him was not enough, and Hubert hoped for a closer and firmer friendship. A kindred wish seemed to have passed nearly at the same time through the mind of the stranger, for he had retired to rest with the hope that he might get to know something more of Hubert; and the next morning, when they met on deck, there was a cordial greeting, and they went and sat down on the seat they had occupied the day before. There were several passengers on board the ship, but Hubert and the stranger were exclusive in their friendship, so that when together they met with no interruption; and this time, as they talked of various things, with the wide-spread ocean around them, Hubert, after a pause, said—
"Did you ever read the story of Jesus Christ stilling the tempest on the Sea of Galilee?"
"Yes, many times; why?"
Then Hubert repeated what Ben the sailor had said; told, too, from whose honest heart the ideas came; and his bosom felt a thrill of pleasure at the earnest attention the stranger gave him.