“Unless it is God’s will,” she answered, reverently.
A sneer curled her companion’s lip at this reply; but the sweet eyes looking up into his seemed to touch some tender memory, for it quickly died, and he repressed the skeptical words to which he was about to give utterance.
But she felt it, nevertheless, and, with a grave look and serious tone, she asked:
“Don’t you believe that God rules the storm, and that He will take care of us?”
“My experience all through life has been that I have had to take care of myself,” he returned, with some bitterness.
“And I have been taught to trust ‘our Heavenly Father.’ I think one would hardly have much faith in one’s self at such a time as this,” the little maiden said, with a look of awe and an involuntary shudder, as another wave broke over them.
The man by her side felt the gentle rebuke, but he evaded it by saying:
“I think no harm will come to us. I have crossed the Atlantic many times; I have sailed upon other oceans, and have been in storms equal to, if not worse, than this. I do not fear the elements much in one of these well-built boats. There is only one thing at sea that I really feel afraid of.”
“And what is that?”
“Fire.”