One day a deep death-like calm settled down upon the ocean. For some days before, the winds had been light and uncertain, and the air had been excessively warm. The captain cast uneasy glances around him from time to time, and looked with a sadder countenance than usual on the haggard faces of the men as they laboured slowly and silently at the oars.

 

“I don’t know what this will turn to, doctor,” he said, in a low tone; “I don’t like the look of it.”

 

The doctor, who was perusing Ailie’s journal at the moment, looked up and shook his head.

 

“It seems to me, captain, that whatever happens, matters cannot be made much worse.”

 

“You are wrong, doctor,” replied the captain quietly; “we have still much to be thankful for.”

 

“Did you not tell me a few minutes ago that the water was almost done?”

 

The doctor said this in a whisper, for the men had not yet been made aware of the fact.

 

“Yes, I did; but it is not quite done; that is matter for thankfulness.”

 

“Oh, according to that principle,” observed the doctor, somewhat testily, “you may say we have cause to be thankful for everything, bad as well as good.”

 

“So we have! so we have! If everything good were taken from us, and nothing left us but our lives, we would have reason to be thankful for that—thankful that we were still above ground, still in the land of hope, with salvation to our immortal souls through Jesus Christ freely offered for our acceptance.”

 

The doctor made no reply. He thought the captain a little weak in the matter of religion. If religion is false, his opinion of the captain no doubt, was right, but if true, surely the weakness lay all the other way.

 

That morning the captain’s voice in prayer was more earnest, if possible, than usual, and he put up a special petition for water, which was observed by the men with feelings of great anxiety, and responded to with a deep amen. After morning worship the scales were brought, and the captain proceeded to weigh out the scanty meal, while the men watched his every motion with an almost wolfish glare, that told eloquently of the prolonged sufferings they had endured. Even poor Ailie’s gentle face now wore a sharp, anxious expression when food was being served out, and she accepted her small portion with a nervous haste that was deeply painful and touching to witness. She little knew, poor child, that that portion of bread and meat and water, small though it was, was larger than that issued to the men, being increased by a small quantity deducted from the captain’s own allowance and an equal amount from that of Glynn. The latter had noticed the captain’s habit of regularly calling off the child’s attention during the distribution of each meal, for the purpose of thus increasing her portion at the expense of his own, and in a whispering conversation held soon after he insisted that a little of his allowance should also be transferred to her. At first the captain firmly refused, but Glynn said that if he did not accede to his wish he would hand over the whole of his portion in future to the monkey, let the result be what it might! As Glynn never threatened without a full and firm resolve to carry out his threats, the captain was compelled to give in.

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