The storm was abating, and the moon, breaking through the clouds, threw her light on the sad scene. While the fisherman took charge of the boat, John and his friend brought the lifeless boy to land, when Antonio tenderly lifted him in his arms, and carried him to the house. He bitterly reproached himself for running into the cove against John’s advice, but John tried to console him. As he smoothed the wet ringlets on his brother’s brow, and kissed his cold cheek, he said, ‘You did it for the best, Mr Antonio; if it had been the will of God to save him, he would have been alive. I trust he is happy now, for he loved the blessed Saviour.’
The next day poor Henry was buried in the nearest churchyard. We shall not attempt to describe his mother’s grief.
CHAPTER VII.
JOHN FINDS ANOTHER HENRY.
A SHORT time after the death of Henry, as John was walking along the wharf, he saw a ragged boy, apparently twelve years of age, leaning idly on a pile of boards. He was thin, and looked sad. John remembered his own feelings when he was left a fatherless boy, and he felt his heart drawn to him. Going to him, he asked if he had no work to do.
‘No,’ replied the lad, ‘I wish I had; I would do anything.’
‘What does your father do for a living?’ John asked.
‘I have no father nor mother,’ said the lad; ‘I just stay wherever people will let me.’