He was checked by the remembrance of who it was that told him this. Heins related, with a deep sigh, which might be given to the memory of either the ship or its owner, that the vessel had been wrecked, and was now at the bottom of the sea. This was the other piece of bad news he had to tell. At least two-thirds of his hearers asked after the crew, while the rest inquired for the cargo. The cargo was lost, except a small portion, which had been preserved with difficulty. The crew had been picked up, only one sailor-boy being missing. It was from two of them who had found their way home that Heins had received the tidings of his misfortune.
"One sailor-boy!" repeated Christian. "Do you know how he was lost? Was he blown from the yards, do you think? Or was he washed overboard? or did he go down with the ship?"
Heins did not know any particulars of the sailor-boy. But where? But how? But when did this happen?
It happened where many shipwrecks had happened before, and many would again, and in the same manner. The vessel had struck on the Eddystone rock on a stormy night. This was another nuisance for which the Dutch were indebted to the English. This fatal rock----.
"Did the English make the Eddystone rock?" little Roselyn inquired, in a low voice, of the pastor. "I thought it was God that broke up the fountains of the deeps, and fixed the everlasting hills." Her wiser brother Christian enlightened her.
"God made this rock; but perhaps he made it so that it might be of use to us, instead of doing us harm, if the English would make the best use of it. Is not that what Heins means, M. Aymond?"
M. Aymond believed that what Mr. Vanderput had just said was true; that the English were about to build a light-house on this dangerous rock, which might thus be made to guide ships into a British harbour, instead of causing them to perish. He trusted that it would appear that Heins was mistaken in saying that many more ships would be lost on that rock; and he hoped that men would learn in time to make all God's works instruments of blessing to their race. Christian carried on the speculation.
"And then, perhaps, man's works may not perish by accident before they are worn out, as this ship did. But yet this was what happened with one of God's works too,--that sailor-boy. He perished before he was worn out. But why do people ever wear out, M. Aymond? Whether a person is drowned at fifteen or dies worn out at eighty, does not much signify, if God could make them live a thousand years. Only think of a person living a thousand years, M. Aymond! He would see cities grow as we see ant-hills rise, while the sea roared against the dykes as it did at the beginning. He would see the stars move so often that he would know them all in their places. He would know almost everything. O! why do not men live a thousand years? and why does God let a young sailor-boy be lost?"
Gertrude whispered, "All the days of Methuselah were nine hundred, sixty and nine years; and he died."
"Yes," added the pastor, gravely meeting the kindling eyes of Christian; "death comes sooner or later; and whether it came soon or late would be all in all if we were to live no more. But as man's life is never to end----"