"I believe I will! I'll get out the old Bible to-night and I'll say that little prayer; or if I can't remember that I'll whittle out a new one. I promise you, Miss, I'll do it!"
The next morning, Edith was just starting out to walk down to the river when a messenger came in haste: "O, Miss Manton! There's been an accident, and Old Jerry is most killed! He wants you. You'll have to come quickly, for they say he can't last long. He is out of his head and keeps saying something about pulling for the shore. Folks say he thinks he is out in a boat." This the boy said as they were hastening to the wharf.
"How did it happen?" asked Edith.
"I don't rightly know. They were unloading a vessel at the wharf and some way Jerry slipped and a heavy cask rolled over him. The doctor says he can't live."
When they reached the place where Jerry was slowly breathing his life away, some one said—"Jerry, Jerry, here is Miss Manton!"
Jerry opened his eyes and said faintly, "Sing that!"
And there, surrounded by a group of rough, though kindly men, Edith sang:
Light in the darkness, sailor, day is at hand,
See o'er the foaming billows, fair haven's land,
Drear was the voyage, sailor, now almost o'er,
Safe within the life-boat, sailor, pull for the shore.
As she paused Jerry's lips moved, and bending low to hear, Edith caught the whisper:
"I did it! I took the oars; I pulled for the shore. I guess I'll make the harbor!"