"I think he means to stay by his ship."
Faith spoke low and tremulously.
"To the death?" whispered Hope in awe-stricken accents.
"Yes."
They gazed into each other's eyes, and drew closer. Hope clutched Faith's hand, and the complaining monkey gave a last babyish little cry, and snuggled down in the warmth of their nestling forms, his sorrows quickly forgotten in slumber. He was safe so long as his mistress held him. Suddenly a thought came to Faith. She looked down at the mite, then upwards, and her eyes were like radiant stars in her pale young face.
"See!" she said, "he feels safe with me, and does not mind the storm; father feels safe with his ship; you and I with our father, and all of us with God. It is a chain of safety. Let's give up worrying and stay by papa, trusting in Jesus. If it is best to save us, He will do so; if not, we will go to sleep just this way—together, and in His arms!"
"Yes," assented Hope softly, pressing lovingly to the side of her twin.
"Yes, all together, and in His arms!"
So mischievous Andy redeemed his naughtiness by teaching a timely lesson of peaceful trust.