"We are fishermen, not heroes," assented James. "I do not know which needs more courage, a life of hardship or a swift death."
"I must confess one thing to you, brothers," interposed Andrew. "I am not clever—but I'm not satisfied. Can anyone tell me what will become of us?"
Simon's attention was diverted. Brother Philip came up and plucked him by the sleeve. He gave him a piece of bread. Simon took it in order to give it to Matthew.
"What is this?" he asked.
"Philip gave it me, but I'm not wanting it."
"But," said Matthew, "it is the piece of bread I just gave the Master."
The piece of bread went round the circle, from Matthew to the Master, from Him to John, then on from one to the other until it returned to Matthew, When they were amazed to find that no one needed the bread, the Master smiled and said: "Now, you like to see miracles. Here is one. Twelve men fed with one piece of bread."
"The bread did not do that, Lord. The word did that."
"No, friends; love did it."
Single drops fell from the trees, others hung like long needles and sparkled. Just as the sea lay spread out below, so the summits of the mountains were now revealed, the snow-peaks, and the pinnacles of rock, while the ice-fields were visible until near midnight. The deep stillness and the softness in the air made the men dreamy. Some were inclined to sleep. Others thought of what the future might have in store for them, and thinking thereon suffered themselves to sink, untroubling, into the will of God.