Alas! this is no uncommon scene on board, not only many a collier, but many a proud ship that sails over the ocean. Still, Peter had not read his Bible in vain. Influenced by God’s Holy Spirit, he knew that he must return good for evil. Now and then, when a retort rose to his lips, he sought for grace to repress it, and he either remained silent or gave a mild reply. He persevered, too, in reading his Bible. Often when the lantern was lit in the forepeak, and the watch below were asleep, he would rise from his berth, and by its pale light sit on a chest beneath it and read from the sacred page, although he could with difficulty make out the words. At other times he would stow himself away forward, and opening his beloved book, draw comfort and consolation from it till he was summoned to some duty by one of his task-masters. Two or three times he had stolen aloft unnoticed by those on deck, and read uninterruptedly for an hour or more, but the mate at length discovering him, called him down.
“I told you we don’t allow idlers aboard,” exclaimed old Jim, bestowing several cuts with a rope’s-end on his shoulders. “Don’t let me ever catch you again with your book aloft doing nothing, or overboard it goes; we don’t want psalm-singers or Bible-readers among us. Remember my words.”
Peter trembled with alarm for the safety of his book. The mate might put his threat into execution, and what could he do to prevent it? Yet he would fight hard before he would give it up, of that he was determined. At the same time he knew that he must obey orders, and he dare not again venture aloft to read. Even if he read on deck, he might run the risk of losing his book. Yet read he must. He asked for guidance and direction from above. The fear which had thus been aroused of losing his Bible made him consider how he could still better secure it. Hitherto he had carried it inside his shirt, with his waistcoat buttoned over it. He now determined to make a canvas case and sling it round his neck. One of the men had some canvas for mending his clothes. Peter purchased a piece, together with some twine, with one of the few shillings he had in his pocket, and borrowed a sail needle from the mate, who lent it, not knowing the object it was for. Peter had watched the men at work, and by perseverance manufactured a case to his satisfaction, with a canvas strap to go round his neck. He could now carry his Bible night and day, and if summoned suddenly on deck, he would still have it with him, and should it enter the head of one of his shipmates to try and take it from his bunk while he was on deck, he would be disappointed. Peter now felt far more content than heretofore about the safety of his Bible. He had frequently to go into the captain’s cabin to carry his meals from the caboose and to clean it out. Generally Captain Hawkes took no notice of him, but one day, being in a facetious humour, he exclaimed, “Well, boy, have you got through your book yet?”
“No, sir,” said Peter, “I don’t expect to do so for a long time to come.”
“Look sharp, then,” said the captain; “you will never be a sailor till you have.”
“I am afraid, sir, then, I never will become a sailor,” said Peter, quietly.
“How so?” asked Captain Hawkes.
“Because I shall wish to read the book till the last day of my life. I want to read it to know how to live, and just as much to know how to die.”
“We can live very well without it, I have a notion,” said the captain; “but as to dying, that may be a different matter.”
“Beg pardon, sir,” said Peter, “but I have been taught that it is one and the same thing. If you like, sir, I’ll read to you all about it from the book.”