The hearts of the young teachers were glad and thankful as they went home. What a joyful thing life seemed that summer afternoon! The radiant sunshine, the shining waves, the bright sky, all spoke to them of love and joy. Even for these children, life was becoming a grander, more blessed thing, now that they were learning to care for the good of others.
Beryl did not always find her scholars so attentive as they had been on this occasion. As the pictures lost their novelty, she found them more troublesome, and often had her patience severely tried. But she persevered in spite of every difficulty, and did her utmost to make her class pleasant to the little ones.
Sometimes she felt discouraged, and fancied that her efforts were all in vain; but in this she was mistaken. The scholars, ignorant and untaught though they were, were beginning to know something of a Saviour's love, and fragments of Beryl's teaching were repeated by childish lips in homes where hitherto the name of God had been unheard save in blasphemous utterance. Truths grasped by the mind in childhood are not easily forgotten, and some of Beryl's little scholars remembered to the end of life what she told them of the love of the Son of God.
She was but a child herself, much too young, many would have thought, to be a teacher; but she was growing in the knowledge of the Lord Jesus whilst she was trying to teach others about him. Coral and Beryl had no one to teach them now Mr. Gilbank was gone; but the Lord Himself was their teacher; and as they read the Bible, and talked to each other of its words, His Spirit made things plain to their childish understanding. They found no difficulties, and fell upon no stumbling-blocks, for truths that are hidden from the wise and prudent were revealed to these babes in the faith.
Lucy made no enquiries as to the manner in which her young ladies spent their Sunday afternoons. She saw them go away with their books, and felt relieved to think that they did not require her attendance, but left her free to spend the time as she liked. She did not think that her young charges were likely to get into any danger, for Miss Beryl was well acquainted with the shore, and generally knew the hour at which the tide would turn; indeed, Miss Beryl was such a clever, shrewd little person, that it would have been absurd to feel anxious about her when out of sight.
Beryl had hitherto been careful to avoid being overtaken by the tide, which, when high, filled the cave in which she held her class.
During the few weeks since she began to keep a "Sunday school," the changes of the tide had suited her convenience tolerably well. But familiarity with danger sometimes engenders carelessness, and at last Beryl was thus betrayed.
One Sunday afternoon, when the class had been exceedingly interesting, and her scholars had said their hymns in the most satisfactory manner, she lingered in the cave talking it all over with Coral, long after the little ones had gone away, quite forgetful of the fact that the tide had been on the turn when they came down to the beach, and was now coming in fast. The cave in which the children stood was a large one, running far back under the cliff. Its extreme end was lost in darkness; but the subdued light sufficed to show a hollow opening at one side of the cave, just above a shelf of rock which ran around it, about four feet from the bottom.
"Coral," said Beryl, seized with a new idea, "do you see that hole in the side of the rock? Let's have a look at it; I fancy it would do nicely for a little cupboard to put our hymn-books in. It is such a bother having to carry them home every time."
They ran to the spot; but Beryl found that the opening was too high up to make a convenient cupboard. It was impossible for her standing on the ground to reach it, and she was planning how she should climb to it, when some words of Coral's startled her with a sudden reminder of her imprudence in lingering so long in the cave.