One of the officers of the ship, a Christian man, had watched him. He had before observed his melancholy manner, so different to what he had at first exhibited. Lieutenant L— called him, and asked him the cause of his sorrow.
Orlo narrated his simple history.
“And no one has thought all this time of imparting any knowledge of Gospel truth to this poor African,” said the lieutenant to himself; and a blush rose on his own cheeks. “No time shall be lost, though,” he added; and he unfolded in language suited to his comprehension, and in all its simplicity, the grand scheme of redemption whereby sinning man can be accepted by a holy and just God as freed from sin, through the great sacrifice offered once on the Cross.
Orlo listened eagerly and attentively. All ideas of suicide had left his mind. He longed to know more of this wonderful, this glorious news.
“Then, Orlo, would you not wish to please so merciful and kind a Master, who has done so much for you?” asked the lieutenant.
“Yes, massa, dat I would,” answered the African.
“One way in which you can do so, is to bear patiently and humbly, as He did, the afflictions the loving God thinks fit to send. He does it in mercy, depend on that. God’s ways are not our ways; but the all-powerful God who made the world must of necessity know better what is right and good than we poor frail dying creatures, whom He formed from the dust of the earth, and who, but for His will, would instantly return to dust again.”
“Me see, me see,” answered the negro, in a tone as joyful as if he had found a pearl of great price; and so he had, for he had found Gospel truth.
“God knows better than we,” was his constant remark after this when he heard others complaining of the misfortunes and ills of life.
The ship had now been nearly her full time in commission, and her captain was in daily expectation of receiving orders to return home. Poor Orlo’s heart sank within him. He must either quit his kind master and his still kinder lieutenant, or, by leaving the coast, abandon all hopes of ever again seeing his beloved Era. To be sure, he knew that she might long ere this have been carried off to the Brazils or Cuba; and faint indeed was the expectation that they ever should meet in this world. Then, again, another feeling arose: “I am now a Christian and she is still a heathen. How can God receive her in heaven?” But after a time he thought—“Ah, but I can pray that she may become a Christian. God’s ways are not our ways. He will hear my prayers—that I know. He can bring about by some of His ways what I cannot accomplish.” And Orlo prayed as he had never prayed before. Captain Fisher treated Orlo with unusual kindness, and, under the circumstances, he could not have been happier on board any ship in the navy.