"
"What! I on board?"
"Yes; ask Willis."
"If you were not, captain, how could you come to my cabin every night
and ask me questions?" inquired the latter.
At this point, a shade of anxiety crossed Littlestone's features; he
turned and looked at the missionary--the missionary looked at
Fritz--Fritz stared at his brother--Jack gazed at Willis--and Willis,
with a puzzled air, regarded everybody in turn.
"At last," continued Jack, "after experiencing a variety of both good
and bad fortune, sometimes vanquished and sometimes the victors, first
wounded, then cured, we arrived here in Havre, where, for a time, we
were plunged into the deepest poverty; we were blacksmiths and
carpenters by turns, and thought ourselves fortunate when we had a
chair to mend or a horse to shoe."
"The workings of Providence," said the missionary, "are very
mysterious, and, perhaps, you will allow me to illustrate this fact by
drawing a comparison. A ship is at the mercy of the waves; it sways,
like a drunken man, sometimes one way and sometimes another. All on
board are in commotion, some are hurrying down the hatchways, and
others are hurrying up. The sailors are twisting the sails about in
every possible direction. Some of the men are closing up the
port-holes, others are working at the pumps. The officers are issuing
a multiplicity of orders at once, the boatswain is constantly sounding
his whistle.
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