“Ay; oot to sea,” replied the skipper.

Quin was obliged to give it up for the time being.

For some time they were nearly becalmed; then, as the land dropped astern and the shades of night deepened, the wind fell altogether, and, when the stars came out, a profound calm prevailed over the gently undulating sea. The exuberant spirits of our three friends were subdued by the sweet influences around, and, as the hour for rest drew near, the conversation, which at first became fitful, dropped at last to silence.

This was broken at length by Jackman saying, to the surprise of his companions, “What d’you say to reading a chapter before turning in? I’m fond of striking what’s called a key-note. If we begin this pleasure-trip with an acknowledgment of our dependence on God, we shall probably have a really pleasant time of it. What say you?”

Both Mabberly and Barret gladly agreed to their friend’s proposal—for both had been trained in God-fearing families—though neither would have had the courage to make the proposal himself. The crew were invited to join, and thus family worship was established on board the Fairy from the first day.

Only one point is worthy of note in connection with this—although no one noted it particularly at the time, namely, that the portion of Scripture undesignedly selected contained that oft-quoted verse, “Ye know not what a day may bring forth.”

The truth of this was very soon thrust home upon them by stern experience.


Chapter Two.