‘How little we thought, as we talked together on deck an hour or two ago, that death was so close at hand for some of us.’
‘Ay, indeed, and with that smiling, burning, treacherous blue sky above us. You have seen some of the dangers now, sir. I suppose you ain’t going, in the face of this storm, to hold to Bill’s song, that “Whatever is, is best.”’
‘Yes, I am, Williams,’ replied the young man firmly.
‘What! with our tight little ship knocked to pieces in this fashion, and your arm broken in two places?’
‘Just so, Williams. Heaven sent both the storm and the accident. They must be for the best.’
‘Well, I’m blowed!’ exclaimed the old sailor in sheer amazement. The announcement seemed to have taken all the wind out of his sails, and he sat staring at the wounded man as if he had charge of a lunatic.
‘How comes it that you are attending on me?’ asked Egerton, as Williams handed him a glass of water.
‘Well, sir, I seem to have took a fancy to your way of talking; so when they wanted some one here to help the doctor with your arm I offered to come, that’s all.’
‘It was very good of you. You told me this morning that you had had troubles, and prayer had never availed to get you out them. Do you mind telling me what those troubles are?’