Before the words had fairly left the Captain's lips, the loud boom of the first gun burst upon the ear.
"Oh, Max, wouldn't you like to be in that Admiral's place?" queried Walter Travilla; "I would."
"Oh, our Maxie means to be an admiral one of these days; and I'm sure I hope he will," said Rosie.
"Very good in you, Rosie," returned Max, smiling and blushing; "but I'm afraid I'll be an old man before that happens, if it ever does."
"But you may comfort yourself that you can be very useful in maintaining your country's honour without waiting to be made an admiral," remarked Evelyn Leland, smiling pleasantly at Max.
"Yes," he said, returning the smile, "and itisa comfort. We'd any of us feel it an honour to be useful to our country."
"I'd like to be," remarked Gracie, "if little girls could do anything."
"Little girls are sometimes a very great blessing and comfort to their fathers," the Captain said, smiling down into her eyes while he laid his right hand tenderly on her pretty head, with its sunny curls streaming in the wind.
In the mean while the firing of the salute had gone on, the Admiral and his staff had reachedthe deck of the "Wanita," the marines presenting arms, and—
"There, what is he going to do now, Papa?" queried Lulu,—"the Admiral, I mean."
"Inspect the ship," replied her father.
"What for, Papa?" asked Grace.
"To see that every part of it is in perfect order."
"I'm sure he will find it so," said Lulu; "for when we were there and were taken all over it, every part was as clean and neat as any lady's parlour."
Captain Raymond now turned away and began talking with Mr. Keith on some subject that did not interest the children, but they continued a close watch of the "Wanita."
The Admiral presently disappeared from the deck, but at length they saw him there again, talking with Captain Wade and his officers; then, in a few moments he and his staff re-embarked and returned to the flag-ship.
"What's going to be done now?" asked one and another.
"Watch, and you will see presently," said Captain Raymond. "If you do not wish to miss something, I advise you to keep both eyes and ears open."
The advice seemed to be promptly followed. All eyes gazed intently in the direction of the "Wanita" and the flag-ship.
Presently a signal was shown by the flag-ship which Captain Raymond promptly interpreted for the enlightenment of those about him,—"Abandon ship."
"What does that mean, Papa?" asked Grace.
"Look and see if you can't find out for yourself," he answered in a pleasant tone.
The signal seemed to have caused a commotion on the deck of each vessel belonging to the squadron. Then there was a great splashing of boats into the water, and of other craft which the Captain explained were life-rafts and catamarans; while at the same time men and boys were scampering about with various articles which he said were provisions, nautical instruments, etc., such as would be needed if the ships were really abandoned out at sea.
"But why would they ever do that, Papa?" Grace asked wonderingly. "I should think it would always be better to stay in their ships, wouldn't it?"
"Not always, daughter. The ship might be on fire, or leaking so badly that she would be in danger of sinking."
"Oh, yes, sir! I didn't think of that," she responded.
"Oh, see!" said Rosie; "they've all pushed off away from their ships, and the 'Wanita's' boats are ahead of all the others."
"Now what are they going to do, Papa?" asked Lulu.
"I can tell that only when I see the flag-ship's next signal," he replied. "Ah, there it is, and tells them to go round the harbour under sail."
The children watched with interest and delight as the order was obeyed. It was a very pretty sight, but soon came another signal from the flag-ship, which the Captain told them was one of recall; and the boats returned to their ships.
The squadron steamed out to sea, the "Dolphin" keeping most of the time within sight of the naval vessels, its passengers being anxious to see more of the evolutions of the men-of-war, and their commanding officer very willing to indulge their wish. They were out simply for pleasure, and were free to turn in any desired direction.
The weather was all that could possibly be wished; and in the evening everybody was on deck except the very little ones, who were already in their nests. The vessels of the squadron were in sight, and all eyes turned frequently in their direction.
"Do you think they'll do anything to-night, Papa?" asked Grace, taking possession of her father's knee, for at the moment he was sitting among the others.
"Who, daughter?" he asked, smoothing her hair with caressing hand.
"Oh, the Admiral and the rest of them on those war-ships. What do they do at such times when they seem to be sailing around just for pleasure?"
"I rather think it is for profit too," he said. "'In time of peace prepare for war.'"
"But how do they prepare for war, Papa?"
"By having sham fights: going through the motions in a way to do harm to no one; firing what we call blank cartridges,—powder but no balls; getting the men so familiar with their guns that they can handle them rapidly and without making mistakes even in the dark. Ah, see! there it comes!" as at that instant a signal-light from the flag-ship shot up several hundred feet into the air, speedily followed by another and another, till the whole sky seemed bright with them; while Captain Raymond, the only one on the yacht who understood the messages, read them off to the others and called their attention to the movements of the ships in prompt obedience to the orders.
"What is that they're doing, Papa?" asked Grace, presently.
"Arranging themselves in different orders of battle," he replied, and proceeded to explain each movement as it was made.
"It's ever so nice to see them," she said, "though I do hope they won't ever have to do any real fighting."
"I hope not, indeed," her father said; "but in this wicked, quarrelsome world the only way to secure peace is to show that we are ready for self-defence in case of attack."
"How beautifully and promptly every signal is obeyed!" remarked Grandma Elsie. "It is a sight worth coming a long distance to see."
"Yes, Mamma," said Violet; "and I'm proud of our navy, even though it is so inferior in size to that of England."
"Inferior in size, but in nothing else, I believe, Mamma Vi," said Max, speaking with some excitement. "You know we've whipped the British twice on the sea in spite of their navy being so very much larger than ours."
"Yes, Maxie, I believe I'm as proud of that fact as even you can be," laughed Violet, while his father gave him a look of mingled amusement and pride.
"I think," remarked Edward Travilla, "that from the beginning of our national life our navy has been one to be proud of."
"In which I entirely agree with you," said the Captain. "But the exhibition seems to be over for to-night, and the hour is a late one to find our young people out of bed."
"Must we go now, Papa?" Lulu asked in a coaxing tone which seemed to add, "I hope you will let us stay at least a little longer."
"Yes," he said; "my little girls may say good-night now and go at once."
They obeyed promptly and cheerfully, and before long the others followed their example, till Mr. Keith and the Captain had the deck to themselves.
They lingered there for quite a long while, seeming to have fallen upon some very interestingtopic of conversation; but it was suddenly broken in upon by the sound of the flag-ship's drum, instantly followed by those of all the other vessels of the squadron.
"Ah, what is the meaning of that, Raymond?" asked Keith, gazing toward the war-ships with keen interest and excitement. "It sounds to me like a call to battle."
"So it is," replied the Captain,—"a night exercise at the great guns, training the men so that they may be ready for all the surprises of a time of war."
Even as he spoke his passengers came hurrying from the cabin, the ladies and young girls wrapped in dressing-gowns and shawls, hastily thrown on to conceal their night-dresses, one and another asking excitedly what was going to be done now. But even as the words left their lips the thunder of cannon burst upon their ears, drowning the Captain's voice when he would have replied.
"Oh, is it war, brother Levis,reallywar?" queried little Walter, in great excitement.
"No, my boy; only a playing at war, I am thankful to be able to say. You may look and listen without fear that any one is to be killed, or even wounded, unless through carelessness."
But the cannon were thundering again, ship after ship firing off whole broadsides at some imaginary foe. At length, however, it was all over, and the passengers of the "Dolphin" returnedto their berths to stay there for the remainder of the night.
"Why, we are anchored, are we not, Levis?" Violet asked of her husband on awakening the next morning.
"Yes, my dear," he answered; "we are riding at anchor in Gardiner's Bay. I suspected that would prove the destination of the squadron, it being about the best place for naval exercises in our Northern waters; and it seems I was right. The squadron is at anchor now at no great distance from us."
"And what do you suppose they will do here?"
"Probably fight some sham battles on sea and land. Do you care to witness such?"
"Oh, very much! I should greatly prefer witnessing a sham battle to a real one. But they won't be likely to begin it immediately, I suppose?"
"No; I presume we shall have time for a hearty breakfast first," replied her husband, with a slight look of amusement. "Don't allow the prospect of witnessing a battle to spoil your appetite for your morning meal, little wife."
"Oh, no," she answered, with a pleasant laugh. "I really am not now so much of a child as all that would come to."
It was not long before she and nearly every other passenger had sought the deck to take a look at their surroundings.
They found Gardiner's Bay a beautiful body of water bounded by islands on nearly every side, that forming its eastern shore bearing the same name. There were a large number of vessels in the bay,—several sloops, schooners, and a yacht or two beside the "Dolphin," to say nothing of the squadron of war-ships. But all were lying quietly at anchor, and our friends willingly responded to the call to breakfast.
Yet no one cared to linger at the table; and when all had finished their repast they quickly repaired to the deck to watch the movements of the squadron. But for a while there seemed to be none, the vessels all riding quietly at anchor.
"Dear me!" Rosie at length exclaimed, "I wish they'd begin to do something!"
"I think they are going to," said Max. "See, there's a boat leaving the flag-ship; I suppose to carry a message to one of the others."
"Oh, I'll go and ask Papa about it!" exclaimed Lulu.
"About what, daughter?" asked the Captain's voice close at her side.
"That boat that has just left the flag-ship, sir," she answered. "Do you know where it's going, and what for?"
"I can only conjecture that it carries some message, probably from the Admiral to the commander of one of the other vessels."
"It's pulling for the 'Wanita,'" said Max;"and see, there are other boats going about from one vessel to another."
"Yes," his father said, "and see yonder are several boats filled with marines, pulling for the shore of Gardiner's Island. Evidently there is to be a sham fight."
"I'm ever so glad it won't be a real one, Papa," said Grace. "It would be so dreadful to see folks killed."
"It would indeed," he answered. "But you may enjoy the show as much as you can, for no one will be hurt unless by accident."
"All the ships seem to be getting boats ready packed with things," remarked Lulu; "I wonder what they are."
"Quite a variety," replied her father,—"great guns, baggage, arms, provisions, and boxes that doubtless contain materials and tools for repairs, compasses, and other articles too numerous to mention. There! the vessels are signalling that they are ready."
"They are getting into the boats!" exclaimed Max, clapping his hands in delight; "and the other fellows that went first to the island seem to be waiting and all ready to fight them."
Every one on the "Dolphin" was now watching the embarkation with interest, the children in a good deal of excitement; it was like a grand show to them.
"Oh, it's a beautiful sight!" said Eva. "Howbright their guns and bayonets are, with the sun shining on them! And there are the beautiful stars and stripes flying from every boat. But they are all in now,—at least I should think so; the boats look full,—and why don't they start?"
"They are waiting for the Admiral's inspection and order," replied Captain Raymond. "Ah, see, there he is on the bridge of the flag-ship, with his field-glass, looking them over. And now the signal is given for them to proceed."
The boats moved off at once in the direction of the island where the marines had preceded them. Captain Raymond's explanations making all their movements well understood by the young people around him, who thought they had never witnessed so fine a sight as the mimic fight that presently ensued, opened by the marines firing a volley of blank cartridges from the shore, which was immediately replied to by the approaching boats with musketry, howitzers, and Gatling guns.
Soon they reached the shore and landed, the marines meanwhile pouring forth an unceasing fire from behind their breastworks.
A fierce battle followed; there were charges and counter-charges, advances and retreats, men falling as if wounded or killed, and being carried off the field by the stretcher-men.
That last-mentioned sight brought the tears to Gracie's blue eyes, and she asked in tremulous tones, "Are they really hurt or killed, Papa?"
"No, darling," he said, pressing the small hand she had put into his, "it is all pretence, just to teach them what to do in case of actual war."
"Oh, I hope that won't ever come!" she exclaimed, furtively wiping away a tear. "Do you think it will, Papa?"
"Hardly," he said; "but it would be the height of folly not to prepare for such a contingency."
"Hurrah!" cried Max, throwing up his cap, "our side's whipped and the other fellows are retreating!"
"Which do you call our side? And do you mean itiswhipped, orhaswhipped?" asked Rosie, with a laughing glance at the boy's excited face.
But the Captain was speaking again, and Max was too busy listening to him to bestow any notice upon Rosie's questions.
"Yes," the Captain said, "the marines are retreating; the battle is about over. Our side, as Max calls it, you see, is throwing out advance-guards, rear-guards, and flankers."
"What for, brother Levis?" asked Walter.
"To make sure that they have taken the island."
"And what will come next, Captain?" asked Grandma Elsie, who was watching the movements of the troops with as much interest as the children.
"Fortification, doubtless," he replied. "Ah,yes; they are already beginning that work. They must fortify the island in order to be able to hold it."
"How, Papa?" asked Grace.
"By throwing up breastworks, digging rifle-pits, planting guns, and so forth. If you watch closely, you will see what they do."
The children—to say nothing of the older ones—watched closely and with keen interest all the movements of the troops until interrupted by the call to dinner.
They had scarcely returned to their post of observation on the deck, having had barely time to notice the completed fortifications, the tents pitched, and the troops at their midday meal, when a tiny strip of bunting was seen fluttering at the flag-ship's main.
Captain Raymond was the first to notice it. "Ah!" he said, "the fun on the island is over,—at least for the present,—for there is the Admiral's signal of recall."
"I'll bet the fellows are sorry to see it!" exclaimed Max; "for I dare say they were going to have some fun there on the island they've taken."
Things were rather quiet for the rest of the day, much to Max's disgust, though at his father's bidding he tried to forget the disappointment in study.
Toward evening Captain Raymond learned something of the Admiral's plans. Two of the vessels were to take possession of a part of the bay set off as a harbour, the others to blockade the entrance.
In reporting the matter to his passengers, "Now," he said, "the preparations will take them two or three days, and the question is, shall we stay to see it all, or turn about and seek entertainment elsewhere? Let us have the opinion of all the older people, beginning with Grandpa Dinsmore," looking pleasantly at the old gentleman as he spoke.
"My preference would be rather for going at once," replied Mr. Dinsmore; "yet I am entirely willing to have the matter decided by your younger people. I shall be quite content to stay on if it seems desirable to the rest of the company."
The vote of the ladies and gentlemen was then taken, when it appeared that the majority were in favour of immediate departure; and the children, though at first disappointed, grew quite reconciled when a little time had been spent in considering what might be seen and done in other quarters.
"I think, Ned," Zoe said to her husband, "that we would better go back to our cottage, because Laurie and Lily are growing fretful,—tired of the sea, I think."
"Very well, my dear, we will do so if you wish it," was the good-natured reply. "Strange as it may seem, I too am quite desirous to make our twin babies as comfortable as possible," he added, with a pleasant laugh.
"I am sorry you should miss the sight of further operations here, Cousin Donald," remarked Grandma Elsie, turning to her kinsman.
"Thank you, Cousin Elsie," he replied; "but though that would be an interesting sight to me, I expect to find almost if not equal enjoyment in a run out to sea or along shore with my friend Raymond in command of the vessel."
"Oh, I think that'll be just splendid," exclaimed Max, "and that before we get back, Cousin Donald, you'll be ready to own up that the navy is a more desirable place to be in than the army."
"Perhaps he wouldn't own up even if hethought so," remarked Rosie, with a merry look at her cousin; "I don't believe I should if I were in his place."
"Possibly I might," he returned, laughingly, "but I certainly do not expect to fall quite so deeply in love with a 'life on the ocean wave,' though I hope to be always willing and anxious to serve my country wherever and whenever I may be needed. I think both army and navy always have been, and always will be, ready to defend her on land or sea."
"Yes, sir, I believe that's so," said Max. "And if ever we should have another war, I hope I'll be able to help defend her."
"I hope so, my boy," the Captain said, regarding the lad with an expression of fatherly pride and affection.
An hour later the "Dolphin" was sailing out of the bay, all her passengers gathered on deck, taking a farewell look at the vessels belonging to the squadron, and on awaking in the morning they found themselves lying at anchor in Newport harbour.
They returned to their cottages for a day or two; then the Raymonds, Grandma Elsie, with the youngest two of her children, and Donald Keith, again set sail in the "Dolphin."
The weather was all that could be desired, every one well and in the best of spirits.
Max was required to devote a part of each dayto study, and recitation to his father, but did not grumble over that, and took great delight in the lessons in practical navigation given him daily by the Captain.
"Papa," he asked one day, "what's the need of a boy going to the Naval Academy when he can learn everything he needs to know on shipboard with a father like you?"
"But he can't," replied the Captain; "how to sail a ship is by no means all he needs to know to fit him to be an officer in the navy."
"Why, what else is necessary, sir?" asked Max, with a look of surprise.
"A number of things which you saw done at Newport and at Gardiner's Bay are quite necessary. He must know how to fight a battle, take charge of an ordnance foundry, and conduct an astronomical observatory; must have a good knowledge of history, be an able jurist and linguist, and a good historian,—besides knowing how to manage a ship in calm or storm."
"Whew! what a lot of things to cram into one head!" laughed Max, with a slightly troubled look on his bright young face.
"Isn't yours big enough to hold it all?" asked his father, with an amused smile.
"I dare say it is, sir," replied Max, "but the difficulty is to pack it all in right. I presume the teachers will help me to do that, though."
"Certainly; and if you follow their directionscarefully you will have no need to fear failure."
"Thank you, sir. That's very encouraging," said Max; "and I am fully determined to try my very best, Papa, if it was only not to disgrace my father."
"My dear son," the Captain said, a trifle huskily, and taking the boy's hand in a warm clasp, "I don't doubt that you intend to do as you have said; but never forget that your only safety is in keeping close to Him who has said, 'In Me is thine help.'"
It was Saturday evening,—the first that had found them on the broad ocean, out of sight of land. They were all on deck, enjoying the delicious evening breeze and a most brilliant sunset.
"Papa," Gracie said, breaking a momentary silence, "what are we going to do about keeping the Lord's Day to-morrow? We can't go to church, you know, unless you can sail the 'Dolphin' back to land in the night."
"I cannot do that, daughter," he answered; "but I can conduct a service here on the deck. How will that do, do you think?"
"I don't know, Papa," she replied, with some hesitation, blushing and looking fearful of hurting his feelings; "I s'pose you couldn't preach a sermon?"
"Why not?" he asked, smiling a little at her evident embarrassment.
"Because you're not a minister, Papa."
"Why, Gracie! Papa's as good as any minister, I'm sure," exclaimed Lulu, half reproachfully, half indignantly.
"Of course he is; I didn't mean that!" returned Gracie, just ready to burst into tears; "I didn't mean he wasn't as good as anybody in this whole world,—for of course he is,—but I thought it was only ministers that preach."
"But I can read a sermon, my pet," the Captain said, "or preach one if I choose; there is no law against it. And we can pray and sing hymns together; and if we put our hearts into it all, our heavenly Father will be as ready to listen to us as to other worshippers in the finest churches on the land."
"That is a very comforting truth," remarked Grandma Elsie; "it is very sweet to reflect that God is as near to us out on the wide and deep sea as to any of his worshippers on the dry land."
"You will hold your service in the morning, I suppose, Captain?" Mr. Keith said inquiringly.
"That is what I had thought of doing, sir," was the reply. "Have you any suggestions to make?"
"Only that we might have a Bible class later in the day."
"Yes, sir; that was a part of my programme,—at least I had thought of teaching my ownchildren, as is customary with me at home; but if the suggestion meets with favour, we will resolve ourselves into a Bible class, each one able to read taking part. What do you all say to the proposition?"
"I highly approve," said Grandma Elsie; "I am sure the day could not be better spent than in the study of God's Holy Word."
"Nor more delightfully," said Violet.
"I think we would all like it, Captain," Evelyn remarked in her quiet way.
"I'm sure I shall," said Lulu; "Papa always makes Bible lessons very interesting."
"That's so," said Max; "I was never taught by any minister or Sunday-school teacher that made them half so interesting."
"It is quite possible that your near relationship to your teacher may have made a good deal of difference, my children," the Captain said gravely, though not unkindly. "But who shall act as teacher on this occasion is a question still to be decided. I propose Grandma Elsie, as the eldest of those present, and probably the best qualified."
"All in favour of that motion please say ay," added Violet, playfully. "I am sure no better teacher could be found than Mamma, though I incline to the opinion that my husband would do equally well."
"Much better, I think," Grandma Elsie said;"and I would greatly prefer to be one of his pupils."
"I can hardly consider myself wise enough to teach my mother," said the Captain, colouring and laughing lightly, "even though she is far too young to be own mother to a man of my age."
"But you may lead a Bible class of which she forms a part, may you not?" queried Donald Keith.
"I suppose that might be possible," the Captain replied, with a humourous look and smile.
"I'm sure you can and will, since such is your mother's wish," Grandma Elsie said in a sportive tone, "and so we may consider that matter settled."
"And Mamma's word having always been law to her children, we will consider it so," Violet said. "Shall we not, Levis?"
"As good and dutiful children I suppose we must, my dear," he returned in the playful tone she particularly liked.
Sunday morning dawned clear and beautiful, a delicious breeze filling the sails and wafting the vessel swiftly onward over the sparkling water.
An hour or so after breakfast, captain, passengers, and crew, except the man at the helm, gathered on deck, every one in neat and appropriate dress. The ladies, gentlemen, and children sat on one side, the crew on the other, Captain Raymond standing between. A Bible and a pileof hymn-books lay on a stand before him, and Max was directed to distribute the latter. They were a part of the supplies Captain Raymond had laid in for the voyage.
A melodeon also stood near the stand, and Violet, seating herself before it, led the singing with which the service opened.
The Captain then offered a short prayer, read a portion of Scripture, a second hymn was sung; then he gave them a short discourse on the text, "They hated Me without a cause."
With much feeling and in simple language that the youngest and most ignorant of his hearers could readily understand, he described the lovely character and beneficent life of Christ upon earth,—always about His Father's business, doing good to the souls and bodies of men,—and the bitter enmity of the scribes and Pharisees, who "hated Him without a cause." Then he went on to tell of the agony in the garden, the betrayal by Judas,—"one of the twelve,"—the mockery of a trial, the scourging and the crown of thorns, the carrying of the cross and the dreadful death upon it.
"All this He bore for you and for me," he concluded in tones tremulous with emotion; "constrained by His great love for us, He died that dreadful death that we might live. And shall we not love Him in return? Shall we not give ourselves to Him, and serve Him with all ourpowers? It is a reasonable service, a glad service,—a service that gives rest to the soul. He says to each one of us, 'Take My yoke upon you, and learn of Me; for I am meek and lowly in heart; and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.'
"Ah, do not refuse or neglect His invitation, for the only choice is between His service and that of Satan,—that malignant spirit whose fierce desire and effort is to drag all souls down to his own depths of sin and misery; and Jesus only can save you from falling into his cruel hands. But He—the Lord of Life and Glory—invites us all to come and be saved, and 'now is the accepted time; now is the day of salvation.' Delay is most dangerous; life is very uncertain. We are sure of no time but now."
He closed the Bible and sat down; and Violet, again seating herself before the melodeon, softly touched the keys and sang in sweet, low tones, but so distinctly that every word reached the farthest listener,—
"Come to Jesus, come to Jesus;Come to Jesus just now, just now;Come to Jesus, come to Jesus just now."
"Come to Jesus, come to Jesus;Come to Jesus just now, just now;Come to Jesus, come to Jesus just now."
Then, at a sign from the Captain, Mr. Keith followed with an earnest prayer; and withanother hymn in which all united, the services closed.
Among the crew was one young man in whom the Captain and Grandma Elsie had both come to feel a peculiar interest. He was evidently an American, and possessed of more intelligence and education than the average sailor before the mast. He had listened with close attention to the Captain's discourse, and with a troubled countenance, as Mrs. Travilla had noticed.
"The Holy Spirit is striving with him, I have little doubt," she said to herself. "Ah, if I could but help him to find Jesus, and to know the sweetness of His love!"
It was not long before the desired opportunity offered. The young man was at the wheel and no one near, while she paced the deck slowly and alone. Gradually she approached, and when close at his side made some pleasant remark about the vessel and the course they were steering.
He responded in a polite and respectful manner.
Then she spoke of the service of the morning, said she had noticed the attention he paid to the Captain's short sermon, and asked in kindest words and tones if he, like herself, was one who loved Jesus, and trusted in Him for salvation from sin and eternal death.
He sighed deeply, then said with emotion, "No, madam, but—I wish I were."
"But what is to hinder, my friend, since He says, 'Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out'?" she asked gently, feelingly.
He was silent for a moment, evidently from emotion, then said, rather as if thinking aloud than addressing her, "If I only knew just how!"
"He is very near, and His omniscient eye reads the heart," she said low and feelingly. "Speak to Him just as if you could see Him,—as if you were kneeling at His feet,—and He will hear.
"The Bible says. 'If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.' Do you want that cleansing, my friend?"
He bowed a silent assent.
"Then go to Jesus for it," she said. "He, and He alone, can give it. He shed His blood for us that 'God may be just and the justifier of him that believeth in Jesus;' for 'the blood of Jesus Christ His Son cleanseth us from all sin.'"
There was a moment's silence; then, "I'd like to be a Christian, ma'am," he said, "such as I see you and the Captain are, but—"
The sentence was left unfinished; and after a moment's pause. "I should like you to be a better one than I am," she said, "but Jesus onlycan make you such. The work is too difficult for any human creature; but Jesus is all-powerful,—'able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by Him, seeing He ever liveth to make intercession for them.' Is not that a precious assurance?"
"It is indeed, ma'am, if—if I only knew it meant me."
"You certainly will be one of those of whom it speaks if you 'come unto God by Him;' and He invites you to come: 'Come unto Me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.'"
"Could you tell me just how, ma'am,—as if you were pointing out the right road to a traveller, for instance?"
"I will try," she said. "You must remember that He is always near,—close to us, though we cannot see Him; and you may speak to Him as readily, and with as much assurance that you will be heard, as you have been speaking to me.
"He is full of love and compassion,—love so infinite, compassion so great that He was willing to endure all the agony of death upon the cross, and the far greater suffering caused by the burden of the sins of the world and the consequent hiding of His Father's face; therefore He will not cast you out, will not turn away from you, if you come in true penitence and faith.
"Make confession of your sins and plead forpardon and acceptance as you would if you could see Him while kneeling at His feet; and He will grant it, will forgive all your transgressions and adopt you into His family to be His own child forever."
But others of the passengers were now drawing near, and he had only time to thank her for her kindly interest in him, and promise to think of what she had been saying, before Walter and Max were at her side, calling her attention to a passing vessel.
A very interesting Bible lesson filled up most of the afternoon, both adults and children taking part; and in the evening hymns were sung and conversation held such as was suited to the sacredness of the day.
A few days longer the "Dolphin" kept on her eastward course, then was headed for the shore of Massachusetts, bound for Boston, where Mr. Keith must leave her, his furlough having now nearly expired. He and his cousins would be sorry to part; but there was no help for it, as Uncle Sam's orders must be obeyed.
The young folks of the party had particularly enjoyed the little trip out to sea, but expected to find a sail along the coast of the New England States quite as much to their taste, particularly as it would give them an opportunity to look upon some of the scenes of incidents in the two wars with England.
They had come in sight of the coast and were all gathered upon the deck.
"That is Scituate, is it not, Captain?" asked Grandma Elsie, indicating a town that had just come into view.
"Yes," he replied, "and I presume you remember the story of the last war with England, connected with it?"
"I do," she answered; "but I presume it would be new to some at least of these young people."
Then entreaties for the story poured in upon her and the Captain from both boys and girls.
"It is but a short one; and I would prefer to have the Captain tell it," Mrs. Travilla replied.
"Oh, Papa, please do!" exclaimed Lulu; and he complied.
"It was, as I have said, during the last war with England that the occurrence I am about to tell of took place. At that time there was a light-house in the harbour kept by a man named Reuben Bates, who had a family of grown-up sons and daughters.
"He and his sons were members of a militia company of the town, and one day during the war they were all absent from home on that business, leaving the light-house in charge of the daughters, Abigail and Rebecca.
"The girls, who were no doubt keeping a vigilant watch for the approach of the enemy, saw a British ship entering the harbour, and conjectured that it was the design of those on board of her to destroy the fishing-boats in the harbour and perhaps burn the town, or at least rob its inhabitants.
"They must have been brave girls, for at once they began to consider what they could do to drive away the would-be invaders.
"I presume Abigail exclaimed, 'Oh, if we could only make them think there were troopsready to defend the town, and so frighten them away!' And very likely Rebecca replied, 'Perhaps we can. If you can play the fife, I'll beat the drum; and if we are hidden from sight they may think there are troops ready to receive them if they come ashore, and so be afraid to land.'
"So they went around behind some sand-hills and played 'Yankee Doodle' in a lively way that had exactly the desired effect.
"The British ship had sent out boats filled with armed men who were pulling for the shore; but on hearing the music of the drum and fife, they evidently concluded that there might be a large force of American soldiers ready to receive them, and thinking 'discretion the better part of valour,' turned about and pulled back to their ship again without attempting to land."
"Oh, wasn't that good?" exclaimed Lulu; "I think the fathers and brothers of those girls must have been proud of them."
"Yes, I dare say they were," said Max.
"I wonder what became of them—those girls—afterward?" said Rosie. "Of course they must have been dead and gone long before this."
"No," replied the Captain, "Abigail died only recently at the advanced age of eighty-nine."
"Papa, won't you stay awhile in Boston and take us to see some of the places connectedwith Revolutionary times,—Bunker Hill and its monument, and maybe some others?" asked Max.
"I shall be pleased to do so, my son, if nothing happens to prevent," was the pleasant-toned reply. "It is my strong desire to have my children well-informed in regard to the history of their own country."
"And ardent patriots too, Papa, ready to defend her to the utmost of their ability should she be attacked by any other power?" queried Max, looking smilingly up into his father's face.
"Yes, my son; particularly the boys," replied the Captain, smiling in his turn at the lad's enthusiasm.
"Well, there's one of your girls that I am sure would find a way to help, Papa,—nursing the wounded soldiers perhaps, or carrying despatches or something," said Lulu; "perhaps giving information of an intended attack by the enemy, as Lydia Darrah did."
"I have no doubt you would do all you could, daughter, and might perhaps be of more assistance than many a man," her father answered kindly.
"I'm afraid I shouldn't be brave enough to do such things as that," remarked Grace, with a look that seemed to say she felt herself quite inferior to her braver sister; "but I could pray for my country, and I know that God hearsand answers prayer,—so that would be helping, wouldn't it, Papa?"
"Yes, my dear child; the Bible tells us a great deal about the power of prayer; 'Call upon Me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify Me,' is one of its promises."
"Yes," said Grandma Elsie, "a cry to God, the Ruler of the universe, for help, may accomplish more than any effort on the part of man to do for himself."
"But people must help themselves too, Mamma?" Walter said, half in assertion, half inquiringly.
"Yes, my son, if they can; 'Faith without works is dead,' the Apostle says. The right way is to do all we can to help ourselves, at the same time asking God's blessing upon our efforts."
"As General Washington did," remarked Mr. Keith. "He was a man of both works and prayer,—a blessing to his country, and to the world; in my estimation the greatest mere man that ever lived. 'First in peace, first in war, first in the hearts of his countrymen.'"
"Yes," assented Grandma Elsie, "I like the toast given by some one,—I have forgotten who it was,—'Washington: Providence left him childless that his country might call him father.' He seems to me to have been as nearly perfect asone of the sinful race of man could be!"
"Yes," responded Captain Raymond; "thoroughly unselfish, just, generous, modest, self-denying and self-sacrificing, charitable to the poor, forgiving, fearless and heroic; a God-fearing man who sought nothing for himself, but was ready to do or die for his country; true to her, to his friends, to his God; a sincere and earnest Christian,—where can a more noble character be found?"
"I think," said Mrs. Travilla, "he was an instrument raised up and prepared of God for the work that he did in securing to our beloved country the liberties she now enjoys."
"I very much like what Lord Brougham says of him," remarked Violet.
"Oh, can you repeat it, Mamma Vi?" queried Lulu, eagerly.
"Yes, I think I can," returned Violet, who was blessed with an excellent memory.
"'It will be the duty of the historian and sage in all ages to let no occasion pass of commemorating this illustrious man; and until time shall be no more, will a test of the progress which our race has made in wisdom and virtue be derived from the veneration paid to the immortal name of Washington!'"
"I like that," said Rosie, her eyes sparkling with pleasure and enthusiasm, "and it's none the worse for having come from an Englishman."
"Not a bit," assented Keith.
"Mamma, was Washington commander atthe battle of Bunker Hill?" asked Walter. "I ought to know; but I can't remember just now."
"No, my son," she answered, "it was fought before he reached Boston,—in fact, the very day, June 17, that Congress agreed to his commission as commander-in-chief of all the Continental forces raised, or to be raised; and on the 21st he set out on horseback from Philadelphia for Boston to take command of the American army encamped there,—or rather around it, the British being in possession of the town itself. News did not fly then as it does in these days, by any means; and it was not till he arrived in New York, on the 25th, that the tidings reached him.
"The next day he was in the saddle again, pushing on toward the scene of conflict. He reached Cambridge on the 2d of July, and the next day took command of the army, drawing his sword under an ancient elm."
"Why, just think!" exclaimed Walter, "it took him nearly two weeks to travel from Philadelphia to Boston, while now we could do it in less than two days. No wonder it took so long to fight the British and drive them out of our country!"
"I think we'd do it in less than half that time now," said Max. "We could move so much faster, besides raising a great deal bigger army;to say nothing of the navy, that I believe has done better in every one of our wars than the land forces. I remember to have read that the army Washington took command of then consisted of only seventeen thousand men, only fourteen thousand five hundred of them fit for duty; that they were without needed supplies of tents or clothing or as much as nine cartridges to a man."
"Yes; it's a wonder Washington wasn't completely discouraged," remarked Evelyn. "I think he surely would have been if he had not put his trust in God and the righteousness of our country's cause."
"No doubt it was that which strengthened him for the long and arduous struggle," said Mrs. Travilla. "Washington was, as I said a moment since, a man of prayer; he looked to God for help in the hour of his country's sorest need, and surely his prayers were heard and answered."
"Yes, Mamma," said Rosie; "I remember reading that he would go into the woods to pray privately for his bleeding country and his suffering soldiers; that some one happened to see him alone there in prayer with the tears coursing down his cheeks. Oh, it's no wonder that with such a leader and in so righteous a cause, our arms were victorious in spite of the fearful odds against us!"
"And it was God who gave us such a leader," responded her mother, "and gave him wisdom and courage for his work, and final success in carrying it on to the desired end."
"Wasn't he a member of the Continental Congress before his election as commander-in-chief of the armies?" asked Rosie.
"Yes," replied her mother. "So was Patrick Henry; and he, when asked whom he considered the greatest man in that body, replied, 'If you speak of eloquence, Mr. Rutledge, of South Carolina, is by far the greatest orator; but if you speak of solid information and sound judgment, Colonel Washington is unquestionably the greatest man on that floor.'"
"How long did Washington stay there close to Boston, Papa?" asked Gracie.
"He carried on the siege for eight months, then on the 17th of March, 1776, succeeded in driving the British away."
"Then did he take possession of the town and stay there awhile?"
"He stayed until April, then went to New York, reaching there on the 13th. Soon after he went to Philadelphia to confer with Congress, then back to New York.
"While he was there anxiously awaiting an attack from the British, the Declaration of Independence, just passed by Congress, was sent him.The troops were quickly paraded, and the Declaration read at the head of the army.
"In the orders of the day Washington said to the troops, 'The General hopes that this important event will serve as a fresh incentive to every officer and soldier to act with fidelity and courage, as knowing that the peace and safety of his country depend, under God, solely on the success of our arms.'
"But I cannot tell you now the whole story of Washington's services to his country in the war for independence, to say nothing of all that he did for her afterward."
"I think we will read about it after we go home to Woodburn," the Captain said.
"Frederick the Great was a great admirer of Washington," remarked Mr. Keith. "He is said to have pronounced Washington's masterly movements on the Delaware the most brilliant achievements recorded in military annals. And Lossing tells us of a portrait of himself which Frederick sent to Washington accompanied by the very gratifying words, 'From the oldest general in Europe to the greatest general in the world.' As for myself, I must say that I think Washington's success, in spite of all the difficulties and discouragements he had to encounter, was something most wonderful, and was given him in answer to prayer, and because he put his trust in God and looked to Him for wisdom and for help."
"He was certainly one of the most unselfish of men," remarked Violet. "What other man would have refused with scorn and indignation, as he did, the suggestion that his army would like to make him a king?"
"Oh, did they want to make him king, and tell him so?" asked Gracie.
"Yes; didn't you know that?" returned Lulu.
"Papa, won't you tell about it?" Grace asked, turning to her father.
"I will, daughter," he answered in a kindly, affectionate tone, and taking in his the hand she had laid upon his knee.
"The battle of Yorktown, which practically secured the independence of our country, was fought in October, 1781, but the treaty of peace was not signed till Jan. 20, 1783; so our armies were not disbanded, and officers and soldiers were sorely tried by their pay being delayed, and feared, not without reason, that they might be disbanded without Congress making proper provision for meeting their just claims.
"Some of the officers began to doubt the efficiency of the Government, and of all republican institutions, and talked among themselves as to whether it might not be better to establish a monarchy instead; and at length one of them was deputed to confer with Washington on the subject.
"He did so,—it seems in writing,—and even ventured to suggest for him the title of king.
"But, as you have just heard, Washington rebuked the writer severely, saying he was at a loss to conceive what part of his conduct could have given encouragement to an address that seemed to him big with the greatest mischiefs that could befall his country; that if he was not deceived in the knowledge of himself, they could not have found a person to whom their schemes were more disagreeable.
"He also conjured the writer, if he had any regard for his country, concern for himself or posterity, or respect for him, to banish these thoughts from his mind, and never communicate a sentiment of such a nature from himself or any one else."
"Did they give it up then, Papa?" Gracie asked.
"Nothing more was ever said about making Washington king," he answered; "but the next December they sent to Congress a memorial on the subject of their pay. A resolution was adopted by that body, but such as did not satisfy the complainants. Then a meeting of officers was arranged for; and anonymous addresses, commonly known as the Newburg addresses, were sent out to rouse the army to resentment.
"Washington insisted on attending the meeting, and delivered an impressive address.
"He had written down what he wished to say, and after reading the first paragraph paused to put on his spectacles, saying most touchingly, as he did so, that he had grown gray in the service of his country, and now found himself growing blind.
"He then went on to read a most noble paper which he had prepared for the occasion. In it he acknowledged the just claims of the army against the Government, and assured them that they would not be disregarded; then he entreated them 'to express their utmost horror and detestation of the man who wishes, under any specious pretences, to overturn the liberties of our country, and who wickedly attempts to open the floodgates of civil discord and deluge our rising empire in blood.'
"Then, having finished his address, he retired from the meeting; but resolutions were at once offered by General Knox, seconded by General Putnam and adopted by the meeting, agreeing with all he had said and reciprocating his expressions of esteem and affection. They were relieved of their doubts and fears and restored to their wonted love for their country."
"Oh, that was nice, Papa!" exclaimed Gracie, her cheeks flushing and her eyes shining. "How good and great our Washington was! It seems to me we would never have got free from Great Britain if we hadn't had him to help."
"Yes: it does seem very doubtful," her father replied. "As Grandma Elsie has said, God seems to have raised up and prepared him for that very work."
"And how soon after that was the war really over, Papa?"
"The treaty of peace was signed in Paris on the 20th of January, 1783, as I remarked a moment since; but as it took a long while in those days for people and news to cross the ocean, it was not till the 17th of the following April that Washington received the proclamation of Congress for the cessation of hostilities. Then on the 19th—which, as you may remember, was the eighth anniversary of the battle of Lexington, the opening conflict of the war—the cessation was proclaimed at the head of every regiment."
"What joyful news it must have been to the poor, weary soldiers!" said Violet. "I trust their hearts were full of gratitude to God, who had prospered the right in spite of the fearful odds against those who were battling for it."
"Yes," returned her husband; "and no heart could have been more thankful than that of the commander-in-chief, who said in the general orders, 'The chaplains of the several brigades will render thanks to Almighty God for all His mercies, particularly for His overruling the wrath ofman to His own glory, and causing the rage of war to cease among the nations.'"
"What a good, good Christian man Washington was, Papa!" exclaimed Gracie.
"And yet he had enemies; and there are still some among his own countrymen who are far from appreciating him,—can even speak evil of him. But even our Lord Jesus Christ had enemies and detractors—bitter and implacable foes—among his own countrymen; and 'the servant is not greater than his Lord,'" was the Captain's reply.
"Yes, Papa, I remember that Washington had enemies,—Gates for one, and that infamous Conway for another," said Max. "How glad I was to read of the Continental Congress accepting the resignation he offered in a fit of anger, so that he had to leave the army for good, though he didn't want to!"
"I think it was for good, Max," remarked Mr. Keith, with a slightly amused smile,—"for the good of the country, though perhaps not for his own. Conway was a man America was well rid of; and the same may be as truly said of Charles Lee. What would have become of our liberties had that infamous cabal succeeded in getting the command taken from Washington and given to any one of themselves!"
Evelyn Leland was the only one of the party on the "Dolphin" who had never seen Boston; but to all the young people entering the city from the sea was a new experience, and as the vessel neared the harbour they gazed about them with great interest, while the Captain pointed out and named the forts and the islands as they came into view.
"Yonder is Boston Light," he said, "two miles east of Fort Warren,—on George's Island, which I will point out presently; it is a revolving light, ninety-two feet above the level of the sea. And yonder is Spit or Bug Light; it is only thirty-five feet high, and stands upon iron pillars fixed in the rock. They show a red fixed light there which can be seen at the distance of seven miles.
"Then there is Long Island Light, named from the island on which it stands. The tower is only twenty-two feet above the ground, but eighty feet above the sea.
"Yonder," again pointing with his finger, "is Fort Independence (called in Revolutionary times Castle William) just at the entrance of the main channel; and opposite it is Fort Winthrop.And yonder is George's Island with its fortification,—Fort Warren."
"And this was the harbour where the Boston Tea-party was held!" remarked Evelyn, in a half-musing tone. "What an exciting time that must have been! I think it was grand in the people to give up the tea they so enjoyed drinking, rather than submit to 'taxation without representation.'"
"Which all women possessed of landed property do to this day," returned Rosie, mischievously.
Eva laughed. "Oh, well," she said, "you know American women can influence the voters to whom they are related,—their brothers, husbands, and sons."
"If they have any, and they happen to be particularly tractable," laughed Rosie. "But how about poor fatherless and brotherless single women? The men may vote as heavy taxes upon their property as they please, while they can't lift a finger to prevent it, or say a word as to what is to be done with the money taken from their purses without their consent."
"Why, Rosie, are you turning into a woman's rights woman?" queried Max, laughing.
"I don't know, Maxie; those ideas just happened to suggest themselves," she answered. "I'll take time to think it all out one of these days, though; and I'll not promise not to turn into an advocate of women's right to have somesay about the taxing of their own property. I see no reason why a man's rights in that direction should be considered superior to a woman's."
"No; nor I either," Max said. "And I'm as willing as possible that American women should have all their rights; but I shouldn't like to let ignorant women—foreign or coloured ones—vote."
"Yes, that's the trouble," laughed Rosie; "I shouldn't like that either. But I can't see that it's any better to let foreign men who are too ignorant to understand much or anything about our institutions, have a vote. I must say it strikes me as exceedingly insulting to educated, intelligent ladies, who are native Americans, to refuse a vote tothem, and at the same time give it tosuch foreign-born men, or to male natives who know nothing, can't read or write, and have no property at all."
"Coloured men, for instance?" queried Max.
"Yes, coloured or white; it's the education I'm concerned about, not the colour. Mamma, do not you agree with me?"
"Yes, I do," Mrs. Travilla answered. "I have no desire to vote myself; but I think only native-born citizens, or those who have been twenty-one years in the country, should have a vote, and not even they unless able to read and write, capable of understanding our form of government, and possessed of some little property,—thatlast in order that they may appreciate more fully the burdens of taxation, and be less ready to make them heavier than need be."
"Papa," asked Gracie, "where abouts were the tea ships when the folks went on board and threw the tea into the water?"
"They were moored at Griffin's Wharf," he replied; "I can point it out to you directly."
"What is it, Papa, Gracie's talking about? A story?" queried little Elsie. "Please, Papa, tell it to us."
"I'm afraid you would hardly understand, Papa's darling," the Captain said, stroking the soft, shining, golden curls as he spoke, and smiling down into the bright, eager little face.
"I think I should, Papa. Wasn't it something 'bout a tea-party?" she asked coaxingly.
"Yes, Papa, please do tell the story; we'd all like to hear it over again now when we're just at the place where it happened," added Gracie.
"Well, my darlings, to please you," he said; "also because I want you to be thoroughly grounded in the history of your own country.
"You must remember that these States,—or rather the original thirteen, there were only so many at that time,—were then called colonies, and were ruled by England. The English Government claimed the right to tax the colonies just as they pleased. That right the people of the colonies denied.
"They were not allowed to send any members to Parliament to help decide who in America should be taxed and how much; so they determined that rather than pay a tax put upon the article without their knowledge and consent, they would do without tea.
"Then the English Government tried to force it on them; and these ships came into their harbour loaded with the tea, which they intended to land.
"One of those tea-laden ships, called the 'Dartmouth,'—Captain Hall in command,—came to anchor yonder, near the Castle, as it was then called. It was on Sunday the 'Dartmouth' came in; and as you may suppose, the sight of her caused a great excitement in Boston.
"Early on Monday morning a placard was posted all over the town. I committed it to memory when a school-boy. It said:—