All this passed through his mind in a second of time, and he hardly seemed to pause before he answered in a firm, steady voice, “Yes; I did promise that too; and even if I had not, I should do it. Don’t you think, you fellows, it would be mean and ungrateful for a boy that is so well off as I am, and has been having such a splendid time all day long, to tumble into his bed without so much as saying thank you to the One he owes it all to?”
“Does look like it when you put it so,” muttered Arthur.
“And then,” proceeded Max, “who is there to take care of us while we and every body else are all fast asleep? May be we’ll wake in the morning all right if we don’t take the trouble to ask God to keep us alive and safe, for He’s always a great deal better to us than we deserve, but don’t you think it’s wise to ask him?”
“I reckon,” said Frank, forcing a laugh, for Max’s seriousness was rather infectious: “we’ll not hinder you any way, old boy, and while you are in the way of asking for yourself, you can just include the rest of us, if you like.”
“How old are you Max?” queried Arthur.
“Thirteen.”
“And I, though four years older, am not half the soldier you are.”
Max shook his head. “I am not brave at all; it was awfully hard to speak out against the cards and wine, and I did hope I’d have this room to myself till—till I’d got through with reading and—and the rest of it.”
“Of course; but you went through the fight and stuck manfully to your colors for all your fright. I say, old fellow, you’re worthy to be the son of a naval officer.”
“Thanks,” said Max, flushing with pleasure; “I wouldn’t be worthy of my father if I couldn’t brave more than I have to-night.”