Part 3 (1/2)

”Ye don't know what ye're talking about.”

”Yes she does,” interrupted the other. ”It's Christ, the Bible tells about.”

”And he used to love little girls, and took 'em up and kissed 'em; she said so; but, pshaw! that's nothing! Maria kissed _me_ once, but 'twasn't much. I'd like to walk on the water, though,” and again the eyes sought the far-off, and dropping her head upon her arms sat motionless as before.

”She's a puzzle,” remarked Cathreen as she went about her work.

”I'd just like to know who she is and where she came from,” remarked her companion, musingly. ”I can almost believe that she _did_ come up out of the sea, as she says, and that her name _is_ 'Lily-Pearl',” and she laughed.

There was a third one who had been listening to the conversation from the narrow stairway that led to the deck, and entering at this moment, said, gently:

”I think I know some one who would enjoy working out this 'puzzle',” and he laid his hand tenderly on the bushy head of the little girl.

”Would you like to go home with me and live?” he asked. ”You will find one there who can tell you all about _Him_ who walked on the sea and loved little children, and I imagine he would love _you_, too, for there is more in this little heart and brain than is generally given to one so young and ignorant,” he continued, as he turned to the wondering women who were listening.

”Ye're not going to take her home with ye _sure_, Mr. Evans? Mike said that _he_ guessed we'd take her; she's no trouble and likes the water.”

Phebe shrugged her shoulders and looked toward her friend who said, pleasantly:

”I think I will take her home with me; and perhaps we will hear from her mother or somebody who will want her, some day,” and patting the rounded cheek, left the cabin and ascended to the deck while Phebe went on with her musings, and the two women commented on her future and the ”strange conduct of the mate.” Yet, all unseen a hand was tenderly leading the little stray lamb back to its fold through ”pastures green” and ”by the still waters,” where the thorns and the briars were scattered along its banks, and where the poor feet would many times get torn, and the heart grow faint; but her way is onward, for the Father leadeth her. Somebody has said that ”G.o.d will make the blind bird's nest,” and Faber once declared that ”there is hardly _ever_ a complete silence in our souls.

G.o.d is whispering to us well nigh continually. Whenever the sounds of the world die out, then we hear these whisperings of G.o.d.” Was He not doing this to our little mariner? ”They talk to me,” she would say, and in her innocence it was the waves that talked--it was the billows that called, but the Father's tender voice was whispering, and his loving care was continually over her.

”The wind is coming up again pretty brisk, Mate, and I guess we shall have another rough night,” said the captain, as he met the other on his rounds just as the darkness began to settle down about the vessel.

”If it will keep in the northeast, all right; we will reach the harbor by to-morrow,” and he walked thoughtfully on.

This prediction was true. In less than a half hour the gale was tossing the billows high about the s.h.i.+p, and the sky was dark and lead-colored.

Phebe would not leave the little window, although the white foam dashed against the small panes and the gloom without was impenetrable.

”Come away, child,” commanded one of the women, sharply, ”what makes you keep sitting there, when you can't see the nose on your face?”

”I don't want to see it,” was the quick reply; ”I want to see them roll and tumble over each other. _He_ couldn't walk on it now?” she queried, turning to the mate who had entered.

”But He could do something more wonderful than that,” he said, coming to her and laying his hand on her head.

The wondering eyes that were looking into the face of the speaker grew larger and brighter and she said--

”I don't believe it!”

”The Bible says so, Phebe, and Willie believes it. Hark--how the wind blows and the waves roar! but _He_ could say to them all, 'Peace, be _still_!' and they would mind him.”

”Stop blowing?”

”Yes, and the sea stop rolling.”

She looked at the smiling face for a moment and then with a shrug of the shoulders turned her eyes again out of the window. The s.h.i.+p was plunging madly in the darkness, and the occupants in the little cabin were obliged to hold tightly on to the railing around it to prevent being dashed together, but Phebe kept her seat on the old weather-beaten chest, clinging to the window for power to hold her position, yet her face did not lose its quiet expression for a moment.

”Well, little girl, I see you are not afraid,” remarked the mate, pleasantly, as he turned to go above. ”I didn't know but the storm would make you think of your ride all alone, and would want some of my help again.”