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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Boy Patriot, by Edward Sylvester Ellis</title>
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+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Boy Patriot, by Edward Sylvester Ellis</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: The Boy Patriot</p>
+<p>Author: Edward Sylvester Ellis</p>
+<p>Release Date: April 17, 2007  [eBook #21125]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOY PATRIOT***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h4>E-text prepared by Taavi Kalju, Janet Blenkinship,<br />
+    and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net/c/">http://www.pgdp.net</a>)<br />
+    from digital material generously made available by<br />
+    Internet Archive/American Libraries<br />
+    (<a href="http://www.archive.org/details/americana">http://www.archive.org/details/americana</a>)</h4>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<table border="0" style="background-color: #ccccff;" cellpadding="10">
+  <tr>
+    <td valign="top">
+      Note:
+    </td>
+    <td>
+      Images of the original pages are available through
+      Internet Archive/American Libraries. See
+      <a href="http://www.archive.org/details/boypatriot00elliiala">
+	  http://www.archive.org/details/boypatriot00elliiala</a>
+	</td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="pg" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img01.jpg"  width="332" height="550" alt="title page illustration" title="" /></div>
+
+
+  <h1>THE BOY PATRIOT.<br /><br /></h1>
+
+<h4>By<br /><br /></h4>
+
+<h2>EDWARD SYLVESTER ELLIS<br /><br /></h2>
+
+  <p class='center'>THE AUTHOR OF
+  "THE BLUE FLAG," "CHEERILY, CHEERILY," ETC.<br /><br /></p>
+
+  <h5>"HE WILL BLESS THEM THAT FEAR THE LORD, BOTH SMALL AND
+  GREAT."</h5>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img02.jpg"  width="300" height="131" alt="decorative motif" title="" /></div>
+
+ <p class='center'> PUBLISHED BY THE<br />
+  AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY,<br />
+  150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW YORK.</p>
+
+
+<blockquote><p>The character of Blair Robertson, the Fairport boy, will not have been
+sketched in vain, if it prompt one young American to such a hearty
+serving of God as will make him a blessing to our dear native land. We
+have laid the scene of our story fifty years ago, but we trust that its
+lessons will be none the less appropriate to the present day.</p></blockquote>
+
+<hr class="minor" />
+
+<blockquote><p class='center'>Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, by the
+<span class="smcap">American Tract Society</span>, in the Clerk's Office of the District
+Court of the Southern District of the State of New York.</p></blockquote>
+
+
+<h2><a name="Contents" id="Contents"></a>Contents</h2>
+<div class="smcap">
+<table border="0" width="500" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents">
+<col style="width:20%" />
+<col style="width:70%" />
+<col style="width:10%" />
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">I.</td>
+  <td align="left">FAIRPORT.</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_I.">5</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">II.</td>
+  <td align="left">THE YOUNG ORATOR.</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_II.">9</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">III.</td>
+  <td align="left">THE ENGLISH BOY.</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_III.">25</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">IV.</td>
+  <td align="left">THE PATRIOT'S WORK.</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV.">36</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">V.</td>
+  <td align="left">BLAIR'S COMPANY.</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_V.">44</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">VI.</td>
+  <td align="left">A PILOT.</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI.">55</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">VII.</td>
+  <td align="left">NO!</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII.">62</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">VIII.</td>
+  <td align="left">THE STORM.</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII.">69</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">IX.</td>
+  <td align="left">A REWARD.</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX.">74</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">X.</td>
+  <td align="left">A NEW DECK.</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_X.">80</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">XI.</td>
+  <td align="left">"MUM."</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI.">86</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">XII.</td>
+  <td align="left">THE FIRST EFFORT.</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII.">95</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">XIII.</td>
+  <td align="left">TEMPTATION.</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII.">105</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">XIV.</td>
+  <td align="left">DERRY DUCK.</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV.">113</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">XV.</td>
+  <td align="left">A LETTER.</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV.">128</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">XVI.</td>
+  <td align="left">A MARVEL.</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI.">134</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">XVII.</td>
+  <td align="left">THE CONFLICT.</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII.">144</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">XVIII.</td>
+  <td align="left">WAGES.</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII.">152</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">XIX.</td>
+  <td align="left">HOME.</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX.">160</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">XX.</td>
+  <td align="left">SACRED JOY.</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX.">170</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td class="pr" align="right">XXI.</td>
+  <td align="left">CONCLUSION.</td>
+  <td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI.">174</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+</div>
+
+<p><br /><br /></p>
+
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_I." id="CHAPTER_I."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">5</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER I.</h2><h3>FAIRPORT.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Were you ever on the coast of Maine? If so, you know how the rocky
+shores stretch out now and then clear into the ocean, and fret the salt
+waves till they are all in a foam. Old Ocean is not to be so set at
+defiance and have his rightful territory wrung from him, without taking
+his revenge after his own fashion. Far up into the land he sends his
+arms, and crooks and bends and makes his way amid the rocks, and finally
+falls asleep in some quiet harbor, where the tall pines stand by the
+shore to sing him a lullaby.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">6</a></span></p>
+
+<p>In just such a spot as this the town we shall call Fairport was built.
+Axe in one hand and Bible in the other, stern settlers here found a
+home. Strong hard-featured sons, and fair rosy-cheeked daughters made
+glad the rude cabins that were soon scattered along the shore. The axe
+was plied in the woods, and the needle by the fireside, and yet grim
+Poverty was ever shaking her fist in the very faces of the settlers, and
+whispering sad things of what the uncertain future might have in store
+for them.</p>
+
+<p>Cheerily they bore the hardships of the present hour, and a deaf ear
+they turned to all such whispers. Yet those settlers were sensible,
+matter-of-fact men; and it was soon plain to them, that healthful as
+were the breezes that made so rosy the cheeks of their daughters,
+Fairport was not the very best site in the world for a settlement, at
+least if its peo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">7</a></span>ple were to depend on the thin and rocky soil won from
+the forest, which scarcely produced the bare necessaries of life.</p>
+
+<p>Was Fairport given up in despair? No, no. Her settlers were not the men
+to be so daunted and foiled. If the land was unkindly, they could take
+to the water; and so they did, to a man. Some were off to the
+Newfoundland Banks, tossing about the codfish, and piling them up into
+stacks that were more profitable than any hay of their own raising. Some
+were on board swift vessels, doing a good share of the carrying trade
+between the West Indies and the New England cities. Some were seeking
+the whale far in the northern seas; while others, less enterprising,
+were content to fish nearer home for all sorts of eatable dwellers in
+the sea, from halibut to herring.</p>
+
+<p>Now a new day had begun for Fair<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">8</a></span>port. The original cabins began to
+tower in the air or encroach on the submissive gardens, as building
+after building was added by the prosperous owners. Miniature villas,
+with a wealth of useless piazzas, appeared in the neighborhood of the
+town, and substantial wharves bordered one side of the quiet harbor, and
+gave a welcome to the shipping that seemed to grow and cluster there
+like the trees of a forest.</p>
+
+<p>Fairport had passed the struggles of its early youth when our story
+begins, though there were gray-haired citizens yet within its borders
+who could tell how the bears had once looked in at their cabin windows,
+and the pine-trees had stood thick in what was now the main street of
+the rising town.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_II." id="CHAPTER_II."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">9</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER II.</h2><h3>THE YOUNG ORATOR.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The boys of Fairport were an amphibious set, who could live on land
+truly, but were happiest when in or near the water. To fish and swim,
+row, trim the sail, and guide the rudder, were accomplishments they all
+could boast. A bold, hardy, merry set they were; and but for the
+schoolmaster's rod and the teaching of their pious mothers, might have
+been as ignorant as oysters and merciless as the sharks. Master Penrose
+had whipped into most of them the elements of a plain English education,
+and gentle mothers had power to soften and rule these rough boys, when
+perhaps a stronger hand would have failed.</p>
+
+<p>Master Penrose always gave a full<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</a></span> holiday on Saturday. Then the wharves
+were sure to swarm with the mischievous little chaps, all eager to carry
+out some favorite plan for amusement, in which old Ocean was sure to be
+engaged as a play-fellow. Poor indeed was the lad who had not a
+fish-hook and line with which to try his skill. The very youngest had
+his tiny boat to be launched, while his elders were planning
+sailing-parties, or jumping and leaping in the water like so many
+dolphins.</p>
+
+<p>Boys like to have a leader, some one they look up to as superior to the
+rest, and capable of deciding knotty questions, and "going ahead" in all
+times of doubt and difficulty. Blair Robertson occupied this position
+among the youngsters of Fairport. He had lawfully won this place among
+his fellows and "achieved greatness," by being the best scholar at the
+academy, as well as the boldest<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</a></span> swimmer, most skilful fisherman, and
+most experienced sailor among all the boys for miles along the coast. It
+was Blair Robertson's boast that he belonged to the nineteenth century,
+and grew old with it. It was doubtful whether the bold lad considered
+this age of progress as honored by his playing his part in its drama, or
+whether he claimed a reflected glory, as having been born at the very
+dawn of that century which promised so much for the thronging millions
+of our world.</p>
+
+<p>Be that as it may, Joe Robertson the pilot and Margaret his wife
+rejoiced, in the year 1800, over their first and only child. Thirteen
+years had swept by, and the honest couple were now as proud of that
+brave, strong boy as they had been of their baby, and with better
+reason.</p>
+
+<p>Troublous times had come upon their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span> native land. War had been declared
+with England. All Fairport was ablaze at the idea of American seamen
+being forced to serve on English ships, and of decks whose timber grew
+in the free forests of Maine or North Carolina, being trodden by the
+unscrupulous feet of British officers with insolent search-warrants in
+their hands.</p>
+
+<p>Blair Robertson had his own views on these subjects&mdash;views which we find
+him giving forth to his devoted followers one sunny Saturday afternoon.</p>
+
+<p>Blair was mounted on a sugar hogshead which stood in front of one of the
+warehouses on the wharf. From this place of eminence he looked down on a
+constantly increasing crowd of youthful listeners. A half hour before, a
+row of little legs had been hanging over the side of the wharf, while
+their owners were intent upon certain corks and lines<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span> that danced or
+quivered amid the waves below. Now the lines were made fast to stone and
+log, while the small fishermen stood agape to listen to the fluent
+orator.</p>
+
+<p>This was but the nucleus of the gathering crowd. Every boy who came near
+the eager circle must of course stop to find out what was going on; and
+it was with no little pride that Blair beheld the dozens of faces soon
+upturned to his.</p>
+
+<p>Blair might have remembered that if there had been but a dead dog in the
+centre of the group, there would have been an equal gathering and
+pushing to know the cause of the meeting; but he, like many an older
+speaker, was willing to attribute to his eloquence what might have had
+even a humbler cause.</p>
+
+<p>"Our rights invaded; a man's ship no longer his castle; the free
+American forced to forsake his stars and stripes!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span> The foot of the
+Briton pollutes our decks. His tyrannical arm takes captive our fathers,
+and dooms them to a servitude of which the world knows no equal. Shall
+we submit? We will not submit. We have protested. We have declared war
+to the death. Has Fairport a voice in this matter? Where are those whom
+we love best? Where but upon the wide sea, a prey to our remorseless
+enemy. Where is <i>your</i> father, and <i>yours</i>, and <i>yours</i>, and <i>mine</i>?"
+said Blair, making his appeal personal as he pointed to the sailors'
+sons. "This insolence must be checked. We must rebuke the proud Briton
+on the very scene of his abominations. We must triumph over him on the
+tossing ocean, and teach him that America, not Britannia, rules the
+waves. Would that we all stood on some staunch ship, to do battle with
+our young right-arms. Then should Englishmen cringe<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span> before us; then
+would we doom to sudden destruction their boasted admirals and flimsy
+fleets. Down with the English! down with the English!"</p>
+
+<p>Blair stamped emphatically on his hollow throne, until it rang again.</p>
+
+<p>"Down with the English!" echoed the crowd in a burst of enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>At this moment a short, stout lad came round a neighboring corner. On
+his arm he carried a large basket of clean linen, with which he now
+tried to elbow his way through the crowd.</p>
+
+<p>"An English boy! Shame that he should show his face among us," said
+Blair in his excitement.</p>
+
+<p>"We'll give him a taste of salt water," said two or three of the oldest
+boys as they seized the stranger roughly by the shoulders. "We'll teach
+him to mend his manners."</p>
+
+<p>"Stop, stop, boys. Give him fair<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</a></span> play," shouted Blair; but Blair was no
+longer the object of attention.</p>
+
+<p>The English boy, in spite of his struggles, was hurried to the edge of
+the wharf, and pushed relentlessly over the brink.</p>
+
+<p>A thorough ducking to him, and the scattering of his precious basket of
+clothes, was all that the young rascals intended. To their horror, the
+stranger sank like a heavy load&mdash;rose, and then sank again.</p>
+
+<p>"He can't swim; he can't swim. He'll be drowned!" burst from the lips of
+the spectators. All were paralyzed with fear.</p>
+
+<p>Blair had forced his way through the crowd, and reached the edge of the
+wharf in time to see the pale, agonized face of the English boy, as he
+for the second time rose to the surface. In another moment Blair was
+diving where, far in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span> deep water, the pale face had vanished from
+sight.</p>
+
+<p>There was a moment of breathless silence, then a deafening cheer, as
+Blair reappeared with the drowning boy in his arms.</p>
+
+<p>There were hands enough outstretched to aid him in laying his burden on
+the shore. "Help me carry him, boys, straight to our house. Mother will
+know what to do for him," said Blair, speaking very quickly.</p>
+
+<p>It was but a few steps down a neighboring street to Joe Robertson's
+pleasant home.</p>
+
+<p>Blair did not fear to take in the dripping boy and lay him on his
+mother's best bed. He knew that mother's joy was to minister to the
+distressed and succor the unfortunate.</p>
+
+<p>The water was soon pouring from the mouth, nose, and ears of the
+unconscious<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">18</a></span> lad. Then he was rubbed and wrapped round with hot
+flannels, while Mrs. Robertson's own hands forced his lungs to work,
+until they again took their natural movement.</p>
+
+<p>Not a word was asked as to how the accident had happened, until, out of
+danger, the rescued boy was in a sweet sleep.</p>
+
+<p>The eager crowd who had followed Blair and his charge had vanished, and
+the mother sat alone with her son. Blair's dripping garments had been
+exchanged for another suit, but in the midst of the late confusion his
+mother's eye had silently and gratefully marked upon him the signs that
+to him the English boy owed his life.</p>
+
+<p>"You saved him, my son. God be thanked. I may well be proud of my boy,"
+said the mother earnestly and fondly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</a></span></p>
+
+<p>A sudden flush of shame crimsoned the cheeks of Blair Robertson. "Oh,
+mother, it was all my fault," he exclaimed. "If he had died&mdash;Oh, if he
+had died, that pale struggling face would have haunted me to my grave. I
+had been making one of my speeches to the boys, and it pleased me to see
+how I could rouse them. I had just shouted 'Down with the English!' and
+made them join me, when poor Hal came round the corner. Nobody would
+have noticed him if I had gone right on; but I pointed him out, and
+angry as they were, I could not stop them before they had thrown him
+into the water. They thought he could swim, I dare say; but I knew he
+couldn't. Oh, mother, what I suffered, thinking he might drown before I
+could reach him. But he's safe now. You think he'll get well, don't you,
+mother?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Yes, my child," said Mrs. Robertson, trembling with deep feeling.
+"God's mercy has been great to you, my boy. May you learn this day a
+solemn lesson. You have a powerful influence over your companions. You
+know it, and I am afraid it has only fed your pride, not prompted you to
+usefulness. Is it real love for your country that leads you to these
+speeches; or is it a desire to see how you can rouse the passions of
+your listeners, and force them to do your bidding? For every talent we
+must give an account, and surely for none more strictly than the power
+to prompt men to good or evil. I believe you love your country, my boy.
+You love our dear country, or I would blush to own you as my son. But I
+fear you have as yet but a poor idea what it is to be a true patriot."</p>
+
+<p>"A true patriot, mother? I think I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</a></span> know what that means. One who loves
+his country, and would cheerfully die for her," said Blair with
+enthusiasm.</p>
+
+<p>"You might even love your country and die for her, and yet be no <i>true</i>
+patriot," said the mother. "You might be her disgrace, and the cause of
+her afflictions, while you shed for her your heart's blood."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't understand you," said the boy thoughtfully.</p>
+
+<p>"Perhaps Korah and his company thought themselves patriots when they
+rebelled against the power of Moses and Aaron. They doubtless moved the
+people by cunning speeches about their own short-lived honor; yet they
+brought destruction on themselves and a plague upon Israel. There is
+nothing more plain in the Bible than God's great regard to the
+righteousness or wickedness of <i>individual</i> men. Suppose that there<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</a></span> had
+been found ten righteous men in Sodom, for whose sake that wicked city
+would have been spared its awful doom. Humble and obscure they might
+have been; but would not they, who brought such a blessing down on the
+neighborhood where they dwelt, be worthy of the name of patriots? My
+son, if you were willing to lay down your life for your country, and yet
+were guilty of the foul sin of swearing, and taught all around you to
+blaspheme, would you not be laying up wrath against your native land,
+though you fought with the bravery of an Alexander? These are times to
+think on these things, my boy, if we really love our country. No man
+liveth unto himself. His home, his state, his country is in a degree
+blessed or cursed for his sake. Dear Blair, you cannot be a true patriot
+without God's grace to help you rule your heart, guard your lips,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span> and
+purify your life. May you this day begin, for your own sake as well as
+for that of your country, to serve the God of our fathers. He has
+mercifully spared you the bitter self-reproach to which you might have
+been doomed. Go in repentance to his footstool, and he will abundantly
+pardon. Resolve henceforward to walk humbly before him, trusting in his
+grace and striving to do his will, and you shall count this day the most
+blessed of your life."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Robertson put her arm round the tall, strong boy at her side. He
+yielded to her touch, as if he had been a little child. Side by side
+they knelt, while the mother poured out such a prayer as can only flow
+from the lips of a Christian mother pleading for her only son.</p>
+
+<p>Blair Robertson spent that long Saturday evening alone in his room. That
+was indeed to be the beginning of days<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span> to him. He was no longer to be a
+self-willed seeker of his own pleasure and honor. He was "bought with a
+price," and was henceforward to be a servant of the King of kings.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_III." id="CHAPTER_III."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">25</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER III.</h2><h3>THE ENGLISH BOY.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>No loving friends came to inquire after the fate of Hal Hutchings, the
+English boy. His efforts to save his basket of clean linen had been as
+vain as his struggles to free himself from the hands of his persecutors.
+The garments that had been starched and ironed with such scrupulous care
+were scattered along the wharf, and trampled under the feet of the
+thoughtless young mob. The old washerwoman on whose errand Hal had been
+sent forth, was too indignant at the destruction which had befallen her
+handiwork, to give one kindly thought to the poor boy who had so
+honorably striven to spare her the misfortune over which she lamented so
+dolorously. Her Sunday thoughts<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span> strayed far more frequently to the
+dingy, stained garments soaking in her back kitchen, than to Hal
+Hutchings, quietly lying in Mrs. Robertson's best bedroom.</p>
+
+<p>"I wonder no one comes to inquire after him. Has he no friends, Blair?"
+said Mrs. Robertson as evening was drawing on.</p>
+
+<p>"I dare say not, mother. I never saw him with anybody. He does errands
+round town, and has been sleeping at Mrs. McKinstry's, the
+washerwoman's. He didn't take his meals there, I know, for I've seen him
+eating bread and cheese in some corner just when other folks were
+sitting down to dinner. They call him 'Hal the English boy;' but I guess
+nobody knows much about him."</p>
+
+<p>"A stranger in a strange land," said Mrs. Robertson thoughtfully; and
+then she rose up and went into the room where Hal was still lying.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Blair took up his Bible. How precious that Bible seemed to him now&mdash;the
+light for his feet, the lamp for his path. With reverence he turned the
+sacred pages until he found the fifty-first psalm, which he read with
+solemn earnestness, making its humble petitions truly his own.</p>
+
+<p>While Blair was thus employed, Mrs. Robertson was talking in her own
+kindly way to the stranger.</p>
+
+<p>"So you are an English boy, Hal," she said. "That will not keep me from
+loving you, for you know the Bible says we must 'love our enemies;' but
+I don't believe you are such a very dangerous enemy, after all." Her
+pleasant smile was like sunshine to the heart of the lonely boy, and his
+reserve melted away before it.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm Hinglish, because I was born in Hingland," said the boy. "I
+couldn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</a></span> help that; and I couldn't blame my father and mother for it
+neither, for I never knowed them. I've been an orphan always. But I'm an
+American, because I chose this for my country, and I worked my passage
+over here, and I haven't begged from anybody."</p>
+
+<p>"I'm glad you want to be an American," said Mrs. Robertson gently; "it
+is a great privilege. But there is something more to do for every boy
+who wants to be an American citizen, than just landing in this country
+and earning his own living, and then by and by voting for our rulers."</p>
+
+<p>Hal opened his large pale blue eyes in confused expectation, and was
+silent.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Robertson was not easily discouraged, and she went on. "You would
+think it very rude, Hal, if I were to invite a poor stranger to my house
+to dinner, and he should jump and laugh while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span> I was asking God's
+blessing before eating; and then toss the plates about, breaking my
+dishes and scattering the food over my clean floor. You would think the
+least he could do would be to be civil, and keep the rules of my house
+while he was in it."</p>
+
+<p>"Such a chap as that ought to have the door showed him right straight,"
+said Hal warmly.</p>
+
+<p>"Well, my boy, this is what I mean: When we welcome strangers to our
+free country, which our fathers fought for and gave their blood to win,
+we expect those strangers to fall in with our ways, and not disturb the
+peace and order of the pleasant home they have come to. Is not that
+right?"</p>
+
+<p>"Yes, ma'am; and I haven't disturbed anybody's peace nor order," said
+Hal with another blank look of the blue eyes.</p>
+
+<p>"No, and I do not believe you ever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</a></span> will; but I have not done yet. A
+free people, to be a safe people, must be a Christian people. Are you a
+Christian boy, Hal?" The question was asked with deep seriousness.</p>
+
+<p>"I a'n't a heathen," said Hal in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>"No, you don't bow down to a wooden idol, or worship snakes and bulls,
+as some heathen people do. But are you trying to serve God in all you
+think and do and say? Have you asked him to forgive you all your sins,
+for the sake of his dear Son; and do you believe he has forgiven you,
+and taken you to be his own dear child?"</p>
+
+<p>"I never had anybody talk to me so before," said Hal with a confused
+look; "but I take it, I a'n't what you call a Christian."</p>
+
+<p>"I dare say you do not understand me very well," said Mrs. Robertson.
+"God<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span> can make these things plain to you. Close your eyes, and I will
+kneel down here and ask him to teach you to know and love his holy
+will."</p>
+
+<p>Hal had been at church many times in his life, and looked curiously on
+at the whole proceeding, as at a "show." Now for the first time he heard
+prayer made for him, for poor Hal Hutchings, to the great God of heaven.
+He gathered but little of the burden of the prayer; yet his first remark
+after Mrs. Robertson resumed her seat beside him was a proof that he
+appreciated the sincerity of her interest in him.</p>
+
+<p>"You are very kind, ma'am," he said. "I'd like to be such an American as
+you. I take it you are the best sort, not like them boys on the wharf."</p>
+
+<p>"Those boys are very sorry for their mischief by this time," said Mrs.
+Robertson. "My own son would gladly do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span> any thing for you. He says he
+never shall forget what he suffered when he thought you might be drowned
+in consequence of his folly. But I think he has learned a lesson he will
+never forget. He has seen how far wrong he might go if he followed his
+own foolish ways. I trust he will hereafter be a faithful, humble child
+of God."</p>
+
+<p>"He pulled me out of the water," said Hal warmly. "He's true grit. I'd
+go to the death for him."</p>
+
+<p>"He will be very glad to have you for a faithful friend," said Mrs.
+Robertson; "but look, you must not teach him any thing bad, or tempt him
+to do wrong. He is my only child, and my dearest wish is to see him a
+noble, pure, Christian man."</p>
+
+<p>"I wont teach him any 'arm as I knows to be 'arm," said Hal, putting out
+his hand to ratify the bargain.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was a rough, hard hand, but Mrs. Robertson took it kindly as she
+answered, "God help you to keep your promise, Hal;" and so their
+interview closed.</p>
+
+<p>When Monday morning came, Hal Hutchings was up and dressed almost as
+early as Mrs. Robertson herself. Into the kitchen he walked, hearing the
+good lady's voice in that direction. "I'm going now," he said, "and I
+just looked in to bid you good-by."</p>
+
+<p>"Stop and take breakfast with us, wont you, Hal? You shall not go away
+hungry."</p>
+
+<p>Some crisp cakes of codfish and potatoes were getting the last coat of
+brown in a frying-pan over the fire, and a huge loaf of Boston "brown
+bread" was on the table near at hand.</p>
+
+<p>"I wouldn't mind a slice of that bread and one of them cakes, if you
+would let me sit down here and eat 'em," said Hal.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Robertson understood the boy's unwillingness to take a meal with
+strangers who had been raised in habits of greater refinement than his
+own. She kindly made a place for him where he was, and he soon rendered
+it evident that bashfulness had not taken away his appetite. "I don't
+want you to leave us," said Mrs. Robertson. "I should like to have you
+stay here until we can find something for you to do. I want to teach you
+to be a good Christian boy, the right kind of an American."</p>
+
+<p>"I don't want to be beholden to anybody," said Hal with decision. "I
+worked my way over, and I haven't begged a penny since I came. I don't
+mean to, unless I'm starving. Mrs. McKinstry has let me her little room.
+I've paid for it for this month, and I don't mean to lose my money. But
+I like your teaching, ma'am. It takes hold of me differ<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span>ent from any
+thing I ever heard before."</p>
+
+<p>"Come in on Sunday evenings then, Hal. I am always at home then, and I
+should love dearly to teach you, and help you to be a good boy. Will you
+come?" said Mrs. Robertson.</p>
+
+<p>"I will, ma'am, I will," said Hal; and making a rude attempt at a bow,
+he took his leave.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_IV." id="CHAPTER_IV."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2><h3>THE PATRIOT'S WORK.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Mrs. Robertson and her son were sitting at their pleasant
+breakfast-table together.</p>
+
+<p>"Blair," said the mother, "you want to be a patriot. Here is some work
+for you to do for your country. We must try to make a good American
+citizen out of Hal, and a good Christian at the same time. The poor
+fellow is deeply grateful to you, and you will have a powerful influence
+over him."</p>
+
+<p>"I can't bear the English," said Blair warmly. "I don't like any
+foreigners, for that matter. It don't seem to me they are the right
+stuff to make American citizens out of. Give me the native-born Yankee,
+free and independent from<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</a></span> his cradle upwards. That's my way of
+thinking."</p>
+
+<p>Blair stood up as he spoke, and waved his knife in a manner more
+emphatic than elegant. A speech, one of his favorite speeches, seemed
+imminent. Blair did love to hear himself talk.</p>
+
+<p>"My son, our question in life is not what we <i>like</i>, but what is <i>duty</i>.
+I think the laws of the kingdom of heaven should be the guide to every
+lover of his country. The voice of our Saviour is, '<i>Come</i> unto me, all
+ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.' 'The
+Spirit and the bride say, <i>Come</i>; and let him that heareth say, <i>Come.</i>'
+Every true Christian echoes the saying of St. Paul, 'I would to God that
+not only thou, but also all that hear me this day, were both almost and
+altogether such as I am, except these bonds.' So it should be with every
+favored citizen of our happy land.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span> We should welcome the oppressed of
+every clime, and strive to make them worthy partakers of the blessings
+we enjoy. I do not like to hear you say you hate any nation. We are all
+of one blood, made in God's image."</p>
+
+<p>"Dear mother," said Blair, "you are right; you are always right. How
+thankful I ought to be to have such a guide, and such a help in keeping
+my new resolutions. I want to do my duty even when it is hard for me.
+You shall see what a friend I will be to Hal. I mean to go out as soon
+as I have done breakfast, and see if I can look him up some steady work.
+I heard Old Jock say on Saturday he wanted a strong boy to help him
+handle his nets. I'll try to get the place for Hal."</p>
+
+<p>Blair was as prompt to act as to plan. A half hour after breakfast was
+over he was standing by the cottage of an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span> old fisherman and knocking
+for admittance.</p>
+
+<p>It took all Blair's powers of persuasion to induce Jock to have any
+thing to do with what he called a "furriner." The case seemed well-nigh
+lost, when Blair mounted on a chair, and made a small speech in his best
+style for the benefit of his single auditor. Whether won over by its
+logic or through a sense of the honor thus conferred upon him, Jock
+agreed to Blair's proposition.</p>
+
+<p>"The first speech I ever made to any purpose," thought Blair, as he
+walked rapidly along the shore, wending his way to Mrs. McKinstry's
+dwelling.</p>
+
+<p>Hal had locked himself into his "castle," as the only way in which he
+could escape the merciless scolding of his voluble hostess. She seemed
+to consider every stain on the injured garments a blot on the shield of
+the English boy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</a></span> which no apologies could excuse or efface. Hal fairly
+fled before the enemy; and once safe in his own room, whistled so
+lustily as to drown all sound of the railing from without.</p>
+
+<p>It was an unusually busy day with Mrs. McKinstry, or it is doubtful
+whether she would have allowed even this close to the skirmish, for she
+had a taste for such encounters. Blair however heard the dripping and
+swashing of water in the rear of the house as he went up the narrow
+stairway. The wide cap-border of Mrs. McKinstry was fanning backwards
+and forwards, as she bent with a regular motion over the tub in which
+her red arms were immersed. She gave one look at Blair as he went up to
+her lodger's room, but did not condescend even to exchange watchwords
+with him.</p>
+
+<p>In answer to Blair's knock was returned a resolute "Who's there?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The reply set Hal's mind at ease, and the visitor was promptly admitted.
+Blair stated his business at once, but to his surprise he met with a
+blank refusal from Hal. He would not fall in with such a plan, not he.
+He would keep out of the water while there was any land left to stand
+on. He had had enough of plumping to the bottom, and coming up, ears
+singing, throat choking, and soul almost scared out of him. Better a
+crumb of bread and a morsel of cheese, than fatness and plenty earned in
+such a way.</p>
+
+<p>It was hard for Blair to understand the nervous fear of drowning which
+had taken possession of poor Hal. Fairport boys could swim almost as
+soon as they could walk. They knew nothing of the helpless feeling of
+one who has the great deep under him, and is powerless to struggle in
+its waves.</p>
+
+<p>But a few short days before, Blair<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span> would have pronounced Hal a coward,
+and left him in disdain. Now he stood silent for a moment, baffled and
+puzzled. "I'll teach you to swim, Hal," he said at length. "We'll try in
+shallow water first, where you couldn't drown, unless you wish to drown
+yourself. It is easy&mdash;just as easy as any thing, if you only know how.
+I'll come for you after school this evening, and we'll go up the creek,
+where the boys wont be about. I shouldn't wonder if you were to take to
+it like a fish."</p>
+
+<p>The English boy looked into Blair's frank pleasant face, and the dogged
+expression passed from his own. He took Blair's hand as he said, "I'll
+try. You shall see what you can make out of me."</p>
+
+<p>Before many weeks were over, Hal Hutchings was as good a swimmer as half
+the boys in Fairport. Old Jock no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span> longer waded into the deep water to
+set his nets or push his boat ashore. He declared that Hal had scared
+the rheumatism out of his bones, and it was not likely to make bold to
+come back, if things went on as they seemed to promise.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_V." id="CHAPTER_V."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER V.</h2><h3>BLAIR'S COMPANY.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Blair Robertson had long had a famous military company of his own,
+called the Fairport Guard. A guard <i>against what</i> had never been
+publicly stated; and as they had no written constitution for their
+association, posterity must ever remain in ignorance on this point. Up
+and down the streets of Fairport it was their delight to parade on a
+Saturday afternoon, to the infinite amusement of the small girls who ate
+molasses candy and looked at the imposing array.</p>
+
+<p>The breaking out of the war infused a new military spirit into all the
+youngsters on the Atlantic coast, and the Fairport Guard came in for
+their share of this growing enthusiasm. Cocks' tail feath<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span>ers and
+broomsticks were suddenly in great requisition for the increasing rank
+and file, and the officers bore themselves with added dignity, and gave
+out their orders with an earnestness which proved that they appreciated
+the work they were imitating.</p>
+
+<p>When it was rumored that Blair Robertson had become a communicant in the
+church to which his mother belonged, there was a general groan among his
+old followers and adherents. Here was an end, in their minds, to the
+Fairport Guard, and every other species of fun in which Blair had been
+so long a leader and abettor.</p>
+
+<p>Blair was at first inclined to shrink from his old companions; but as
+the right spirit grew and strengthened within him, he mingled among them
+more freely, actuated by the desire to win new citizens for the kingdom
+of heaven, and to guide<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</a></span> his wild associates into such paths as would
+make them a blessing to their native land.</p>
+
+<p>Blair's heart had been like rich ground, in which his mother had been
+sowing, sowing, sowing good seed, prayerfully waiting until it should
+spring up and take root to his own salvation and the glory of God. That
+happy time had come. All the words of counsel, all the pure teaching
+that had been stored in his mind, seemed now warmed into life, and ever
+rising up to prompt him to good and guard him from evil. Happy are the
+boys who have such a mother.</p>
+
+<p>A series of rainy Saturdays had postponed the question as to whether the
+Fairport Guard should parade as usual under the command of their long
+honored captain. A bright sunny holiday came at last, and Blair's
+decision on this point must now be declared. Long and pray<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</a></span>erfully the
+boy had considered the subject, and his conclusion was fixed and
+unalterable.</p>
+
+<p>The change in Blair's principles and feelings had not alienated him from
+his former companions. Each one of them had now for him a new value.
+They were to him wandering children of his heavenly Father, whom he
+longed to bring back to that Father's house. The wildest and most erring
+among them called forth his most tender interest, as farthest from the
+kingdom of heaven and in the most danger of utter destruction.</p>
+
+<p>Blair's love of his country too had been but deepened and increased by
+his late realization of the allegiance he himself owed to the King of
+kings. His native land was now to him a dear portion of the great
+vineyard on which he desired the especial blessing of God. He more
+deeply appreciated the fact that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</a></span> every true Christian man is indeed an
+element of wholesome life and prosperity to the neighborhood and land in
+which he dwells. The boys of the present day were soon to be the men on
+whom the state must rely for power and permanency. With a true patriot's
+zeal, Blair resolved to do all in his power to bring the boys of
+Fairport to be such Christian men as would be a blessing in their day
+and generation. These thoughts had gone far to fix his decision with
+reference to the Fairport Guard.</p>
+
+<p>It was with a burst of enthusiastic applause that the little company saw
+Blair appear upon the public square in his well-known uniform. His
+three-cornered hat of black pasteboard was surmounted by a long black
+feather, and fastened under his chin by a fine leather strap, the strap
+being bordered by a ferocious pair of whiskers, to afford which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span> the
+"black sheep" of some neighboring flock had evidently suffered. His
+grandfather's coat, which had been worn at Bunker Hill, enveloped his
+slender form, and increased the imposing effect of his tall figure upon
+the minds of his subordinates.</p>
+
+<p>"Three cheers for Captain Robertson! Three cheers for Blair!" shouted
+the boys as their leader approached.</p>
+
+<p>The cheers rung out on the air somewhat feebly, though that was owing to
+the weakness of the throats that raised them, rather than to any want of
+goodwill, and so Blair understood it.</p>
+
+<p>"Now give us a speech before we fall into rank," called out one of the
+company.</p>
+
+<p>"That is just what I mean to do, if you will all listen to me," said the
+captain in his most dignified manner.</p>
+
+<p>The stump of a fallen tree served to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</a></span> elevate our speaker on this
+occasion, as it has many an older orator in circumstances no more
+interesting to his hearers than were the present to the eager group of
+listeners.</p>
+
+<p>Blair had another purpose now than to hear himself talk. The short pause
+which preceded his opening sentence was not merely for effect. In those
+few seconds Blair was asking aid from his heavenly Father so to speak
+that he might have power to move his hearers and guide them aright.</p>
+
+<p>"Boys," he began, "boys, I want to be your captain. I don't want to give
+up the Fairport Guard. We have had many a good time together, and I love
+you all; yes, every one. Our marching and drilling has hitherto been
+play, but now we ought to be in earnest. We should prepare to be really
+a guard to our native town. At any moment the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</a></span> British may land on our
+shores, and threaten the lives of those who are dearest to us. We must
+be able to protect our mothers and sisters if the evil day comes. We
+must learn the use of firearms. This musket did duty at Bunker Hill.
+Every young patriot here must learn to use it well. In due time we must
+each have our musket, and make it carry true, if need be, to the heart
+of the enemy. But, boys, if we are to be real defenders of our native
+land, we must be worthy of such an honor. I am willing, I want to be
+your captain; but hear the rules I propose for our company: We are to be
+a temperance band; no drop of the cup that intoxicates must pass our
+lips. No profane word must sully our tongues. The name of the God of our
+fathers must be honored among us. Any member of this company who shall
+be found guilty of a lie, a theft, or<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</a></span> bullying the weak and
+defenceless, shall be cast out by common vote. We will strive to be a
+credit to our beloved home&mdash;true American citizens, who may dare to ask
+God to bless them in all their undertakings and prosper all they do.
+Boys, do you agree to these regulations? If so, I shall rejoice to be
+your captain. If not, I must sadly bid adieu to the Fairport Guard, and
+with this time-honored musket in my hand, stand alone on the threshold
+of my home in the hour of danger, trusting in God and in the strength of
+this single right-arm."</p>
+
+<p>As Blair concluded, he grounded his musket, and stood silently awaiting
+the reply of his companions.</p>
+
+<p>There was a moment of hesitation; then one of the older boys, the
+first-lieutenant, stepped forward and silently placed himself at the
+side of his young commander. In true martial style the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</a></span> whole company
+followed, arraying themselves around their leader.</p>
+
+<p>"We agree! We agree! We agree to every thing!" shouted one and all.</p>
+
+<p>"May God help us to keep to our compact," said Blair. Then, after a
+short pause, he added, "Let me propose to you a new member for our
+company&mdash;my friend Hal Hutchings, who, born on English soil, is yet a
+true American at heart. Let all in favor of his admission say Aye."</p>
+
+<p>Hal had been striving to give himself a military air by appearing in his
+red flannel shirt and trousers, while Old Jock's red night-cap was
+perched above the yellow curls of the boy. As his name was mentioned, he
+raised to his shoulder a borrowed crutch which served him for a musket,
+as if to signify his readiness for martial duty.</p>
+
+<p>"The English boy! Admit the Eng<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</a></span>lish boy!" said several voices; but a
+hearty "Aye, aye" from two or three prominent members of the company
+decided the question in Hal's favor, and he was admitted at once by
+general consent.</p>
+
+<p>Forming now in regular ranks, the Fairport Guard went through their
+usual drill, and then set off in a creditable march, to let the citizens
+have a view of their doughty defenders.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img03.jpg"  width="327" height="550" alt="illustration chapter VI" title="" /></div>
+
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_VI." id="CHAPTER_VI."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2><h3>A PILOT.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>It is strange that the moon generally has all the blame for fickleness,
+when the sun quite as often hides his face without sufficient warning.
+The Fairport Guard had hardly made the circuit of the town, before the
+late smiling sky was overcast by dark hurrying clouds, and the
+weatherwise began to predict a coming storm, which was to be "no joke on
+sea or land."</p>
+
+<p>Luckless members of the Fairport Guard who had not had the precaution to
+tie on their head-gear, might be seen breaking rank and running
+indecorously in various directions in pursuit of hat or cap, while the
+skirts of the captain's time-honored coat flapped in the wind, like the
+signal of a ship in distress.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span></p>
+
+<p>It was in the endeavor to complete their usual tour, by passing along
+the wharf, that this military body was subjected to this attack from old
+Boreas. Worse confusion, however, soon broke up all order among them. A
+group of men on the wharf had been for some time looking at a ship
+nearing the harbor. They could not make her out, they said. She was a
+stranger in those waters, and yet bore the American flag. She seemed a
+man-of-war, and was evidently signalling for a pilot.</p>
+
+<p>Fairport harbor, smooth and safe as it was, cradled among the
+overhanging cliffs, had a guard at its entrance which no stranger might
+defy. Its deep narrow channel went winding among hidden rocks, and woe
+betide the keel that ventured a dozen yards from its appointed path.</p>
+
+<p>For thirty years Joe Robertson had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span> been the pilot of Fairport, and was
+as well known to the frequenters of that harbor as was the tall spire
+which was the pride of the town. The sound of war had, however, roused
+within him the spirit of his father of Revolutionary memory. He declared
+he would not have it said that Joe Robertson was content to play
+door-keeper to the harbor of Fairport, while brave men were shedding
+their blood for the country, as dear to him as to them. Joe's enthusiasm
+was contagious. It spread through all Fairport, and there was hardly a
+man who could bear arms on sea or land who was not off at his country's
+bidding.</p>
+
+<p>Old Jock, who had had one leg bitten off by a shark, men who had been
+crippled by a fall from mainmast or yard, and sickly sailors, worn out
+by the fevers of southern ports, were left at home to keep company with
+the few<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">58</a></span> true landsmen, the shopmen of the town.</p>
+
+<p>Old Jock had been content to serve as pilot since the departure of Joe,
+and well he knew the channel; but he seemed to have grown lazy, or
+particularly careful of himself, since Hal had come under his roof. Now
+he positively refused to go to the vessel in the offing. He plainly
+expressed his doubts as to what kind of a craft she was, and moreover
+declared that such a squall as was coming up was "not to be risked by
+any man in his senses, even if that old ship went to the bottom with
+every soul in her."</p>
+
+<p>Blair listened intently to this conversation. Too many times had he been
+to and fro with his father in his pilot's duty not to know well the
+dangerous channel. Every crook and turn in it was as familiar to him as
+the windings of the little path in his mother's flower-garden. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</a></span> boy
+stood erect with growing determination as the speakers went on.</p>
+
+<p>"She makes for the shore. She'll surely run on the rocks if a pilot
+don't go to her. If Joe Robertson were only here. What business had a
+man of his age going off to the war, instead of staying to look after
+the harbor of his own town?"</p>
+
+<p>"He has left his son to take his place," said Blair quickly. "I know the
+channel. I am not afraid. I will just speak to my mother, and then I'm
+off."</p>
+
+<p>In a few hurried words the son told his design to the mother who
+understood him so well. "May I go?" he added; "I know you will not
+refuse."</p>
+
+<p>The mother's eyes filled with tears as she spoke. "I will not keep you,
+my noble boy. God bless and watch over you. The true Christian, like his
+Master, takes his life in his hand, and goes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span> forth at the call of duty.
+The true patriot will risk all for his dear countrymen. Go. My prayers
+shall be around you like a guard."</p>
+
+<p>When Blair returned to the wharf it was with his mother at his side. The
+little pilot-boat had been made ready. As he jumped into it, another
+figure quickly followed him. It was Hal Hutchings. "I must go with you,"
+he said with determination. "I can manage a boat. I sha'n't be in the
+way. I couldn't stand it to wait on the shore. May-be two of us will be
+needed."</p>
+
+<p>Blair gave Hal one cordial grasp of the hand, then hoisted his bit of a
+sail, and soon over the wild waves the two boys took their course
+together.</p>
+
+<p>"God help that Blair Robertson. He has the making of the right kind of a
+man in him," exclaimed a bystander.</p>
+
+<p>"He's <i>our captain</i>, Blair is," said one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span> of the youngest members of the
+Fairport Guard.</p>
+
+<p>"Who would have thought of Hal's making such a venture?" said Old Jock.
+"He's a little skeary about water yet. But I believe he'd die for Blair
+Robertson. Whatever takes hold of that Hal Hutchings takes him strong."</p>
+
+<p>The mother's eye followed the little boat as it went dancing over the
+waves, but her heart was uplifted in silent prayer.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_VII." id="CHAPTER_VII."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2><h3>NO!</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The pilot-boat was nearing the strange vessel, when Blair suddenly
+exclaimed, "I see British uniforms on board. We have been tricked by
+that flag falsely displayed. It is an English man-of-war. Put about.
+We'll pilot no such vessel into Fairport."</p>
+
+<p>Quick as thought the little boat had turned its head, and was making
+towards the shore. The movement was not unperceived on board the
+man-of-war, and its cause was at once understood. A boat, manned by a
+dozen strong rowers, had been made ready for such an emergency. They
+were quickly in pursuit of the retreating pilot. They gained rapidly
+upon the boys, and were soon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">63</a></span> alongside, commanding Blair to surrender,
+while half a dozen muskets were aimed at the brave lads.</p>
+
+<p>"Fire! Do your worst! I am not afraid to die!" sprang to the lips of
+Blair Robertson; but he thought of his mother, and was silent. He had no
+right so to throw away the life of her only son.</p>
+
+<p>"Surrender, or we shall fire," was again repeated.</p>
+
+<p>"A couple of unarmed boys, decoyed within your reach, would be a worthy
+mark for your treacherous British muskets," said Blair boldly. "I would
+dare you to fire, but there are those at home who would miss us too
+much. Do what you will with us; we are your prisoners."</p>
+
+<p>The British tars handled their captives without ceremony, and hurried
+them at once on board the man-of-war and presented them before its
+impatient commander.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Not a little surprised at the grotesque appearance of the prisoners, he
+exclaimed in astonishment, "Who and what are you?"</p>
+
+<p>"I am a Yankee boy, the captain of the Fairport Guard," said Blair
+frankly. "We had been parading, when your signal for a pilot called me
+too suddenly away for me to have time to lay aside this dress, <i>this
+coat</i> which my grandfather wore at <i>Bunker Hill</i>."</p>
+
+<p>A strong emphasis was laid on the last word of the sentence.</p>
+
+<p>"You young rascal!" exclaimed the commander. "And who is this Tom-fool
+of a companion?"</p>
+
+<p>"It is my friend, and one of our company. He would not see me risking my
+life on the water while he stood on the shore. Would that we had many
+such 'Tom-fools,' with brave, strong hearts like his."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span></p>
+
+<p>As Blair spoke, he took off his official cap and left his noble young
+head bare. With another movement the precious coat was thrown over his
+arm, and the stripling stood in his school-boy dress before the English
+commander, who exclaimed, "A pretty pilot, you. Who sent you on this mad
+errand?"</p>
+
+<p>"My father has been for thirty years the pilot of Fairport. He is now
+absent fighting for his country against her oppressors. I know the
+channel well. No one of our few remaining men would venture his life in
+such a sea for an unknown vessel, and so I came. I knew it would be
+certain death for you to try to enter that harbor without a pilot."</p>
+
+<p>"Then do your duty, young malapert. There is no time to be lost. We'll
+run up the British flag, and go into port under fair colors."</p>
+
+<p>The commander gave the necessary<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span> orders to have the last suggestion
+carried out, and the sailors were prompt to do his bidding.</p>
+
+<p>Blair stood perfectly still, while a look of stern determination sat on
+his young face. "I will never pilot enemies to the shores of our land.
+You can shoot me, but you cannot force me to act the traitor."</p>
+
+<p>The boy spoke resolutely. The English commander eyed him for a moment,
+and then said quickly,</p>
+
+<p>"Shooting is too good for you, young dare-devil. That is quick work,
+soon over. There are other means of bringing you to terms."</p>
+
+<p>The commander held in his hand a thick pamphlet in which he had been
+reading. He made it into a firm scroll, and placed it upon the edge of
+the railing near which he was standing. Then turning to one of the
+sailors, he said,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span> "Here, let me see you cut that through with your
+knife. Be quick."</p>
+
+<p>The man drew the long knife from his belt, and with one sweeping stroke
+severed the thick scroll. One part went fluttering through the air and
+dropped in the angry waters, while the other was firmly held by the
+commander.</p>
+
+<p>"Put young master's right-hand in the same place, and we will see it
+food for fishes. Or will he choose to do his duty, and keep his precious
+five fingers for future use?"</p>
+
+<p>The words had hardly passed from the lips of the British officer, when
+Blair laid his hand calmly on the railing, and exclaimed, "Now, God
+helping me, you may tear me limb from limb, and I will be true to my
+country and my home."</p>
+
+<p>"It's no use. He'll keep his word. You can't force 'im," shouted Hal
+Hutchings, the tears coursing down his cheeks.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">68</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The wild winds swept through the rigging, and the storm came on with
+sudden violence.</p>
+
+<p>This was no time for contention with such a spirit as Blair had
+displayed, and the captain at once gave orders to make for the open sea,
+where he might the more safely abide the approaching tempest. The
+Fairport channel had been strewn with too many wrecks to be ventured
+without a careful pilot, and of that the English captain had been fully
+warned.</p>
+
+<p>Blair and Hal were hastily thrust below, while rapid preparations were
+made to meet the coming hour of danger.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_VIII." id="CHAPTER_VIII."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2><h3>THE STORM.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The place in which Blair and his companion found themselves was a small
+strongly built closet, used as a "lock-up" for refractory sailors. A
+single bull's-eye admitted a mere glimmer of light for a while, but that
+soon died away in utter darkness as the night came rapidly on. It was
+well for the boys that they knew something of ocean's rough rocking. A
+land-lubber would have had all the miseries of sea-sickness added to the
+horrors of that dreary dungeon.</p>
+
+<p>A new exaltation of spirit had come over Blair. Difficulties and dangers
+seemed as nothing to him while in the path of duty. He feared neither
+the raging elements nor the power of angry<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">70</a></span> enemies. He had the promise
+that those who trust in God shall never be moved, and in this strong
+refuge he was safe.</p>
+
+<p>Not so with poor Hal. The dread of death had seized him, and absorbed
+all other thoughts. He could not but think of the horrors into which he
+should be plunged if he suddenly found a watery grave. Prayer seemed
+impossible for him, as in a kind of agonized waiting he met every plunge
+and reel of the storm-tossed ship.</p>
+
+<p>Ah, the time of peril is not the best time to make one's peace with God.
+When heart and flesh fail, the soul shrinks in dismay before its coming
+doom. Even the wild prayers for deliverance which may burst from the
+affrighted soul, what will they avail at the judgment? Are they the
+cries of the contrite heart mourning for its sins against a holy,
+loving, and beneficent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span> heavenly Father? Are they not rather but as the
+shrieks of the criminal who sees no escape from his merited retribution?
+Alas for him who postpones his day of repentance till face to face with
+the king of terrors. It is he only who is strong in his great Deliverer
+who can see that icy beckoning hand, and amid the shrinking of human
+nature find himself calm in the strength which only God supplies. If the
+agonies or the stupor of the sick-bed unfit the soul to seek peace with
+God in the dying hour, even so does the anguish of such fear as now
+bowed poor Hal to the earth.</p>
+
+<p>As the English lad crouched in his terror, Blair knelt at his side and
+prayed earnestly for him to that God who seemed to the young Christian
+but the more surely at hand, for the tokens of his power that made that
+mighty ship quiver like a leaf in the autumn wind.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Worn out with the excess of his own strong emotion, Hal at length sank
+into a deep slumber, and rolled and tossed with the vessel like a
+lifeless thing. Blair feared the poor boy had actually died of terror;
+but he soon convinced himself that there was yet motion in that heart
+which had throbbed so truly for him.</p>
+
+<p>There was no sleep for Blair during that long wild night. In the
+intensity of his excitement, his thoughts flew through his mind with a
+vividness and a swiftness that made him almost feel that he was tasting
+a new and higher kind of existence. Spiritual things were as real to him
+as his own identity, and the God in whom he trusted seemed at his side
+as a familiar friend. Of his mother too he could think without a tear.
+He was sure that if left childless, she would be comforted and sustained
+and gently<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span> led along her lonely pathway. Had he not been fulfilling her
+oft-repeated counsel, to fear nothing but sin? Had he not vindicated
+that love of his native land, which she had taught him should be next to
+his allegiance to God? She might never know his fate. Yet she would
+mourn for him as for one who died in his effort to fulfil the duties of
+his absent father, and risked his own life to save the human freight of
+a ship from wreck and sure destruction.</p>
+
+<p>Daylight brought but a feeble glimmer to Blair's dark prison-house, yet
+he welcomed it as the assurance of dawn&mdash;dawn which is ever welcome to
+the watcher, though it may usher in a day of double danger.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_IX." id="CHAPTER_IX."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2><h3>A REWARD.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Hal was still in the deep sleep into which he had fallen, when the bolts
+of their place of confinement were withdrawn. Blair's clear bright eyes
+looked full in the face of the English commander, who now stood before
+him.</p>
+
+<p>"Give me your hand, my boy," said the captain. "I can respect bravery
+wherever I find it. I honor you for your determined courage. Tell me,
+who taught you so to love your country?"</p>
+
+<p>Blair's hand still hung at his side as he answered, "My mother, sir; the
+best of mothers. She would rather have me die in the right cause, than
+live a traitor."</p>
+
+<p>"You will not give me your hand? Perhaps I do not deserve it; but it
+was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</a></span> not cruelty which prompted me to act as I did last evening. I felt
+our danger, and scrupled not to use any means which should bring you to
+terms. Your constancy triumphed. I knew that no threats could force such
+a spirit. You shall not lose your reward, in the knowledge of the
+service you have done your home and your kindred. My orders were to get
+into the harbor of Fairport, to take possession of the naval stores
+there belonging to privateersmen, and then to reduce the town to ashes."</p>
+
+<p>For the first time Blair's eyes filled with tears, and his chest swelled
+with strong emotion as he exclaimed, "Thank God, I have been able to be
+useful to my country and my home. This will fill my mother's heart with
+joy. To her I owe all in me that is worthy of praise."</p>
+
+<p>"I believe I can trust you, my lad," said the captain. "I would not
+willingly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span> have my name go out as one who would maim and torture a brave
+lad. My desperation is my excuse for my expedient of last evening. I
+want you to promise to keep that scene a secret. You may perchance some
+day have your own sins to cover. I have been reckoned brave and
+honorable, and I would not have my fair name tarnished. Will you
+promise?"</p>
+
+<p>"I forgive you from my heart. I promise," said Blair, frankly extending
+his hand.</p>
+
+<p>"Such a mother as yours can be trusted," said the English commander,
+warmly grasping the offered hand. "She must know how her son did her
+honor in his hour of danger. Tell her the story, but let her keep it to
+herself. The true patriot, my boy, is willing to suffer for his country,
+though he win no glory from his sufferings. Are you equal to such a
+sacrifice?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I own I should like to be known as one who had done something for his
+native land," said Blair; "but it will do me good, and make me the purer
+patriot, I trust, to have only my mother's praise, if we ever meet
+again."</p>
+
+<p>"<i>You</i> shall be released at the earliest opportunity; but this your
+companion must stay with us. I wish he was of the stuff that you are. We
+would make a British tar of him, who would do us honor. His tongue tells
+the story of his birth, even if we could doubt the witness of his Saxon
+eyes and hair."</p>
+
+<p>"He chose to be an American. He worked his way to a home with us, and to
+us he ought to belong," said Blair boldly.</p>
+
+<p>"He is English, unnaturalized of course, as he is under age. He belongs
+to us by all law. I wish he were a better prey," said the captain.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"You do Hal Hutchings injustice. A truer heart never throbbed. Timid as
+he is, he ventured with me in the boat because he would not see me go
+alone. Let him once love his duty as he loves me, and there will be no
+post of danger from which he will shrink."</p>
+
+<p>Blair's eyes flashed and his cheek glowed as he spoke.</p>
+
+<p>"He shall be kindly cared for. We will make the best of what is in him.
+You are both free to go your way on board the ship. There is no chance
+of escape where we now are. You will see how our good vessel has
+suffered by the storm. Yet she weathered it bravely. You shall have food
+here presently, and then you are at large, prisoners on parole."</p>
+
+<p>With these words the captain took his leave.</p>
+
+<p>Blair's first impulse, when left alone,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span> was to throw himself on his
+knees beside his sleeping companion. From the depths of his heart he
+thanked God for enabling him to be firm to his duty; and earnestly he
+prayed that he might be made humble in the midst of the honor which had
+been allowed him. For his dear mother too rose a fervent prayer that she
+might be kept in the hollow of her Maker's hand during the absence of
+her son, whom she had striven to train as a Christian patriot, whose
+watchwords are ever, "God and my native land."</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_X." id="CHAPTER_X."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER X.</h2><h3>A NEW DECK.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The British vessel had indeed suffered much damage in the fearful storm.
+The crashing and wrenching that had so overwhelmed poor Hal with terror,
+had been the destruction of mast and yard and bulwark. Yet, though
+sorely dismantled, the good ship was able to keep bravely on her way.</p>
+
+<p>She had been several days heading for the distant shores of England,
+alone on the wide ocean, which like a sulky child bore the marks of its
+late outburst of passion long after the sky above was all smiles and
+sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>The appearance of three sails along the far horizon caught the captain's
+wary eye. That they were Americans he did<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</a></span> not doubt&mdash;privateers,
+against which singly he could have won an easy victory; but disabled as
+his vessel now was, he could not dare to cope with such a trio.</p>
+
+<p>They gained rapidly upon him. His resolution was taken at once. He wrote
+a few lines hastily, sealed them, and summoned Blair to his side. "My
+boy," he said, "I want to send you on a dangerous mission. Dare you
+trust yourself in your boat upon the sea, chafing as it still is from
+the late storm? I want a messenger to send to yonder craft so swiftly
+nearing us. Dare you go? Your courage shall set you free."</p>
+
+<p>"I will go. God will watch over me, and bring me safe to my mother,"
+said Blair promptly.</p>
+
+<p>A few words of affectionate parting with Hal, and then Blair was again a
+free boy, the sky above and the friendly waters below. Friendly they
+seemed to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</a></span> him as he sped over the waves towards the flag of his native
+land. He did not look behind him to see that the Stars and Stripes were
+waving above the British vessel, run up when she was called on to show
+her colors. He did not note the fact that the deck on which he had
+lately stood was fast passing from sight while he hasted on his errand.</p>
+
+<p>Two of the privateers kept up their chase of the suspicious craft, while
+the other hove to, to receive the message which had been signalized as
+in the hands of the boy in the fast approaching boat.</p>
+
+<p>Blair stepped freely and gladly when he was once more among his own dear
+countrymen, and it was with a beaming face that he presented his sealed
+note to the captain of the "Molly."</p>
+
+<p>The note was as follows: "We send you herewith an American boy, by
+chance<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span> our prisoner. We trust that the gaining of such an addition to
+your crew will make amends for the loss of the British property which
+this delay gives us a chance to carry off in safety."</p>
+
+<p>The captain of the Molly read these few words at a glance; then stamping
+his foot, he exclaimed, "You young villain! American or no American, you
+shall suffer for this sneaking trick. We'll send you back again out of
+the mouth of our guns, or half-way at least. It is not worth our while
+to follow that miserable cheat. Those good ships will take him before
+many hours are over. Yankees know a British hull if American colors are
+flying over her."</p>
+
+<p>Blair looked with astonishment where, far over the waters, the British
+man-of-war was fading from sight.</p>
+
+<p>"It is a shabby trick, but I was no party to it," he exclaimed. "I
+would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span> sooner lose my right hand than lift one finger against my
+countrymen. I am an American. I am the son of old Joe Robertson, the
+pilot of Fairport. Perhaps you know him. If you do, you will be sure
+that one of his blood would never do dishonor to the Stars and Stripes."</p>
+
+<p>Captain Knox of the privateer Molly had never heard of Joe Robertson;
+but his knowledge of the world made him see truth and innocence in the
+face of the boy. Blair's words came too quickly, and his voice was
+pitched too high for English birth, and that the blunt captain marked at
+once.</p>
+
+<p>"No matter who you are or where you came from, if you are all right as
+to the Stars and Stripes," said Captain Knox. "We don't ask too many
+questions here as to what folks have been before they come aboard the
+Molly. If you can obey orders and handle a rope, this is the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span> place for
+you to make your fortune. Go aft, and Derry Duck our first-mate will
+find something for you to do in short order. He knows how to take the
+stiffness out of a fellow's bones."</p>
+
+<p>Thus dismissed, Blair mingled among the sailors at the other end of the
+vessel, by no means a welcome guest. Muttered curses fell on his ears,
+and more than one voice was heard to say, "He ought to be sunk forty
+fathoms in salt water, with a hundred weight of lead at his heels."</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_XI." id="CHAPTER_XI."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2><h3>"MUM."</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Captain Knox did not set off in pursuit of the British vessel from which
+Blair had so unexpectedly escaped. Our young sailor soon learned that
+the "Molly" was on the look-out for richer prey, in the shape of an East
+Indiaman, whose costly cargo was expected to prove a gold mine for
+captain and crew.</p>
+
+<p>The love of adventure and the lust for gold seemed uppermost in the
+minds of Blair's new companions. The Fairport boy was not long in
+discovering that there was about as little Christian patriotism on board
+the Molly, as there is verdure in Sahara. In the freedom of the
+mess-table, the late achievements of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span> the crew were the occasion of many
+a "yarn," and of many a fierce discussion as to who had been the boldest
+and most reckless in the excitement of attack and victory. It was plain
+that the crew of the Molly were little better than a den of thieves,
+their whole thought being of plunder, their whole ambition the winning
+of gold. Blair blushed for the honor of his country, to find such men
+among her avowed defenders. Oaths and obscenity made even more hateful
+the rough narratives in which each strove to prove himself more hardened
+and abandoned than the last speaker. Blair's soul recoiled with horror
+from the taint of such companionship; yet for him there was no escape.
+Among these coarse rovers he was forced to eat and sleep, to live and
+labor, while many weeks went by.</p>
+
+<p>The youngest on board, he was at the beck and call of these rough men,
+who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span> made his body as weary of doing their bidding as his soul of their
+words of wickedness. A deep, hearty hatred of the crew of the Molly took
+possession of Blair Robertson. He wondered that a benevolent Providence
+should have placed a Christian boy in the midst of the pollution of such
+associates, and subject to the martyrdom of hearing their daily talk. A
+cold and haughty silence was Blair's defence against their scolding and
+their railing. With a feeling of conscious superiority he moved among
+them, desiring their praise even less than their persecution.</p>
+
+<p>The names of the crew of the Molly were as unattractive as their
+appearance and manners. These soubriquets spoke not of pious parents who
+had given their children to God, with a Christian name which they
+trusted would be registered in heaven. They told rather of lawless<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span>
+lives, and a past which must be buried in oblivion or acknowledged with
+shame and perhaps fear. "Fighting-cock," "Torpedo," "Brimstone," and
+"the Slasher," were among the leaders who dubbed Blair with the title of
+"Mum," and so saluted him on all occasions. Blair had a very
+considerable sense of his own dignity, and was by no means pleased with
+this style of address. Yet he showed his resentment by increased
+taciturnity rather than by words. Captain Knox and Derry Duck soon found
+out that Blair Robertson was no useless addition to the crew, and
+promptly gave him his share in the watch and in other duties which his
+strength would permit.</p>
+
+<p>The hours of the watch were to Blair the most agreeable he now enjoyed.
+In the silent night, with the sea below and the sentinel stars overhead,
+he could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span> commune with God, undisturbed by the wickedness of man.</p>
+
+<p>Blair had not been a day on board the Molly, when Torpedo, a fiery young
+Spaniard, spied him reading his pocket-Testament in a quiet part of the
+ship. The book was snatched away and flung triumphantly into the water,
+while Torpedo exclaimed in bad English that Blair should follow it if he
+tried to force any of his canting notions on the free crew of the
+privateer. Well was it for Blair that his mind was stored with chapter
+after chapter of the precious volume, which would otherwise have been to
+him now a sealed book. It surprised him to see how much of the
+Scriptures he could by a strong effort recall, and most consoling and
+cheering to him were those words of peace and power.</p>
+
+<p>In one of these lonely watches, Blair's thoughts turned to his present
+compan<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span>ions with his usual loathing. Suddenly there came to him the
+image of these rough bad men in their days of babyhood, ere yet this
+evil world had found its full response in the evil within their poor
+human hearts. He could fancy the loving eye of God on those little ones,
+following them along their dreary pathway, and grieving as thicker grew
+the crust of sin over all that had been pure and childlike, and more and
+more dark their coming doom. Blair realized for the first time the love
+of God, the pure and holy God, for those wicked transgressors of his
+law. "Yes," he thought, "it was while we were yet sinners Christ died
+for us. He came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.
+Hateful as must have been to Him the atmosphere of guilt and degradation
+in this lower world, he left his Father's throne and came to seek and to
+save<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span> that which was lost." Ah, how unlike the ministry of the Son of
+man had been Blair's proud, self-exalting, unloving demeanor. Perhaps
+mercy for those poor abandoned men had sent a Christian boy to dwell
+among them and show forth the image of his Master. With deep shame Blair
+saw how unchristian had been his thoughts and acts towards his
+uncongenial associates. Had he not cherished the very spirit of the
+Pharisee, "Stand by thyself; I am holier than thou?" Blair thought of
+his proud and hasty temper and of the many sins of his boyhood, and
+meekly owned that but for the loving hand of God which had hedged him
+round against temptation, and planted him in the garden of the Lord, he
+might have been even worse than these wild rovers of the sea. Earnestly
+he prayed that he might so live and love on board the Molly, that at
+least a faint image<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span> might be given of the great Example, who endured
+the contradiction of sinners, and for their sakes was willing to suffer
+even unto death.</p>
+
+<p>Shame and indignation that such men should profess to be defenders of
+the American flag had hitherto been a chill to the patriotism of Blair
+Robertson. Now the thought struck him, that if he could but win one of
+these hardy sailors to be a Christian servant of his country, an honor
+to the flag under which he sailed, not in vain would a young patriot
+have endured the trials and temptations of the "Molly." "But," thought
+Blair, "what am I, single-handed, against so many? How can I hope to
+bring a blessing by the prayers of my one heart, be it ever so devoted?"
+He remembered that the prayer of the patriot Moses saved the hosts of
+the children of Israel from utter destruction at the hand of their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</a></span>
+offended God. At the prayer of Paul, the Ruler of the seas gave him not
+only his own life, but the lives of all that were with him in the ship.
+"I cannot," he said to himself, "hope to prevail like these saints of
+old, at least not for my own sake; but the name of Jesus is
+all-powerful. I will plead it for the poor wanderers about me, and God
+will in due time, I trust, prosper and bless my efforts."</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_XII." id="CHAPTER_XII."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2><h3>THE FIRST EFFORT.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>"I've broken my jack-knife," said the yellow-headed, yellow-faced tar
+who rejoiced in the nickname of Brimstone. The speech was accompanied by
+an oath that chilled the very soul of Blair Robertson; but it was the
+morning after the watch which had so changed his views towards his wild
+associates, and he at once seized the opportunity to begin his new line
+of conduct.</p>
+
+<p>Blair had a large many-bladed Sheffield knife, which had been a present
+to his father from an English captain. For several years it was hoarded
+as a special treasure, and then on a Christmas-day found its way into
+the pocket of the only son. Blair knew the worth and temper<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">96</a></span> of every
+blade, and its fit and appointed use. Not a boy in Fairport had such a
+knife, as had been acknowledged on all hands. He had besides often
+thought of it as no bad weapon in case of an attack from any of the
+fighting crew of the Molly. "To stick a man," was in their estimation no
+uncommon occurrence, judging from the tales of their adventures, which
+they delighted to tell.</p>
+
+<p>"Take my knife, wont you? It is a first-rate one," said Blair, handing
+over his treasure as freely as if the sacrifice had cost him no effort.</p>
+
+<p>Brimstone opened his round cat-like eyes in surprise; and then dropping
+the knife into the depths of his pocket, said, "Green, green! You
+expected to make a trade with me, I suppose. You can't come it. I never
+swap."</p>
+
+<p>"I meant to make you a present of it. You seemed so put out about your
+knife's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</a></span> breaking," said Blair pleasantly. "A fellow does hate to break
+his knife. An English captain gave that to my father five years ago. It
+has six blades."</p>
+
+<p>Brimstone took the knife out of his pocket and examined it slowly,
+opening blade after blade with the air of a connoisseur.</p>
+
+<p>"I say, youngster, it's a first-rate article. You meant a swap, now; own
+up. What did you mean to ask me for it, if I'd been in the humor?"</p>
+
+<p>"There is only one thing I should like to ask of you," began Blair.</p>
+
+<p>"Ha, ha! I knew you meant a swap," said Brimstone. "There's no harm in
+making a clean breast of it."</p>
+
+<p>"I wanted to ask you not to swear those horrible oaths. I tremble lest
+God, whose great name you blaspheme, should smite you dead with those
+curses on your lips," said Blair earnestly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">98</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Brimstone had the long blade of the knife open. He gave an angry thrust
+at Blair, which the lad skilfully avoided, but without a shadow of fear
+in his fine face. "None of that talk," exclaimed Brimstone. "We say
+<i>what</i> we please and <i>when</i> we please on board the Molly. Mum's the
+right word for you. We want no parson just out of petticoats here."</p>
+
+<p>Blair walked quietly away. His precious knife was gone, and he had
+perhaps but irritated and made more unfriendly one of the very men whom
+he so longed to influence for good. He had left himself without any
+defensive weapon among men who reckoned human life as of trifling value.
+Yet Blair was not discouraged. He had made a beginning; and though
+roughly received, it was an effort put forth in a Christian spirit, and
+could not be lost. With a petition in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">99</a></span> heart for the rough sailor he
+had just quitted, Blair went to a quiet part of the ship to write a few
+lines to his mother. It seemed to him it would be a comfort to fancy
+himself in communication with her, though the letter might never fall
+under her dear eyes. Yet that was not impossible. There were letters
+waiting already on board, until they could be sent by some
+homeward-bound craft. The little mail-bag might find a timely and trusty
+bearer.</p>
+
+<p>Blair had nearly filled the sheet before him, unconscious of any
+observers. The vessel lay becalmed, scarcely moving on the quiet waters,
+and the men had been stretched lazily about, or leisurely mending sails,
+or washing their clothing in true sailors' fashion. Drawn on by
+Brimstone's beckoning finger, a group had silently gathered round Blair,
+ready for any wild frolic at the boy's expense<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">100</a></span> which their summoner
+might have in his unscrupulous brain.</p>
+
+<p>Just as Blair put the signature to his letter, the paper was snatched
+from his hand by some one from behind.</p>
+
+<p>"Now hear, worshipful shipmates," said Brimstone, making as if he would
+read the letter aloud.</p>
+
+<p>"You don't know your alphabet," said Derry Duck contemptuously. "I am
+the scholard for you; but I choose to let the writer do his own reading.
+Here, Mum, let us have the benefit of your long-tailed letter in plain
+English, stops put in all right."</p>
+
+<p>Blair's eyes flashed for a moment, but the next he put out his hand for
+the letter, and said pleasantly, "Do you really want to know how a
+Yankee boy writes home to his mother? Well, then, I'll read every word
+out, just as it is written."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/img04.jpg"  width="331" height="550" alt="illustration chapter XII" title="" /></div>
+
+<p>The tones of Blair's voice were clear and firm as he read as follows:</p>
+
+<blockquote><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Mother</span>&mdash;I always thought I loved you, but I never half
+knew what you were to me before. I think of you by day, and dream of you
+by night."</p></blockquote>
+
+<p>"I should think he was writing to his sweetheart," said Brimstone with a
+coarse laugh.</p>
+
+<p>"Silence," shouted Derry Duck in a tone of command. "Go on, boy."</p>
+
+<p>Blair resumed. "I am on board the 'Molly,' Captain Knox, an American
+privateer, safe and sound, in full health and fair spirits, thanks to
+the good God who has watched over me. It would be a long story to tell
+you how I came here; that I will reserve till we meet. When the British
+commander found he could not <i>make</i> me pilot him into Fairport, he put
+for the open sea, and there we took the gale. A real tear-away it was,
+and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</a></span> raked the old ship well-nigh clean from stem to stern; but they
+rigged her up again, and had her skimming the seas like a duck before
+two days were over. I had to leave Hal Hutchings on board of her; they
+claimed him for an English subject. It was like losing my eyes to part
+with him.</p>
+
+<p>"I never thought to see such danger as has fallen to my lot since I
+kissed you good-by, dear mother; but my heart has never failed me. God
+has sustained me in every hour of trial, and I trust him for all that is
+before me, be it danger or temptation or death. He is all-powerful. In
+his strength I shall come off conqueror. He spread this smiling sky
+above me. He measured these limitless waters in the hollow of his hand.
+He can, he will, keep me from all evil; and if death shall be my
+portion, he will take me, all unworthy as I am, to his king<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">103</a></span>dom of
+glory, for the sake of our crucified Redeemer."</p>
+
+<p>Blair Robertson had the rare gifts of voice and manner which ever
+exercise an influence more powerful than force of argument or elegance
+of style. What he said went home to the hearts of his hearers. As he
+uttered the deep feelings of his soul, his rude listeners were awed into
+silence. He paused, and there was a moment of deathlike stillness.</p>
+
+<p>It was interrupted by Brimstone, who uttered an oath in coarse bravado,
+as he exclaimed that he for one would hear no more such stuff, fit only
+for milk-sop landlubbers and silly women.</p>
+
+<p>"Read no more, my boy," said Deny Duck soberly. "You cast your pearls
+before swine."</p>
+
+<p>Blair turned a quick look upon the mate as he said, "You then know
+something of Scripture, and can make a right<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</a></span> use of it. I believe I
+have found a friend."</p>
+
+<p>"You have, you have," said Derry Duck, grasping the offered hand of the
+stripling in a gripe that would have made him wince with pain but for
+the bounding joy of his heart.</p>
+
+<p>Derry Duck was called away at that moment by a summons from the captain,
+and Blair, unmolested, closed his letter and dropped it in the mail-bag.
+Prayer for the mate of the Molly was in the heart of Blair, even as his
+hands were busy with the melting wax, or loosing the rude entrance to
+the post-office on the sea.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_XIII." id="CHAPTER_XIII."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">105</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2><h3>TEMPTATION.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Derry Duck was no mean ally. The strength of his arm, and his position
+as second in command, gave him great influence on board the Molly. There
+were traditions of the power of his bare fist to deal death with a
+single blow&mdash;traditions which won for him an odd kind of respect, and
+insured for him the obedience he never failed to exact. Derry having
+avowed himself the friend of Blair Robertson, it was well understood
+that there must be an end to the peculiar persecutions to which the boy
+had been subjected. He could not of course escape such rough usage of
+word and act as the crew had for each other, but he was to be no longer
+their chosen butt and scape-goat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Blair felt at once the advantage of having so powerful "a friend at
+court," and he eagerly seized upon the favorable turn in affairs to
+carry out his new plans and wishes for his associates. It had struck him
+that there was but one way to avoid having his ears pained and his soul
+polluted by the conversation that was the entertainment of the mess. He
+must do his share of the talking, and so adapt it to his own taste and
+principles. The lion's share Blair determined it should be, and that
+without unfairness, as he had to make up for lost time. Once assured
+that Brimstone's unwashed hand was not to be placed over his mouth if he
+attempted to speak, and the cry, "Shut up, Mum," raised by his
+companions, Blair's tongue was set loose.</p>
+
+<p>We have said that Blair was by no means averse to hearing his own voice;
+and much as his guiding motives and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">107</a></span> aims had changed, the Blair on
+board the Molly was still the same human being that he was in Joe
+Robertson's little parlor in Fairport. Never did city belle strive more
+earnestly to make her conversation attractive to her hearers, than did
+our young patriot, actuated by a motive which is in comparison with hers
+as the sunlight to the glow-worm's uncertain ray.</p>
+
+<p>Blair had songs to sing and speeches to make. He had wild stories of the
+struggles of the early settlers of Maine, caught long ago from the lips
+of gray-haired men and treasured in the boy's heart, that had little
+reckoned the coming use for these hoarded wonders. The captains who had
+shared the services of the pilot of Fairport had filled his willing ears
+with tales of their adventures in every sea and on every coast, and the
+fond father had garnered these marvel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</a></span>lous legends to tell to his little
+listener at home, till the child's eyes glowed bright as he panted to
+taste of peril, and do and dare amid the stormy waves.</p>
+
+<p>Now indeed came a time of peril to Blair. With secret delight he found
+he had a power to charm and move even the rough band who gathered round
+him to catch every word of the glowing narratives he poured forth from
+his crowded storehouse. There is something within us all which prompts
+us to adapt our conversation to the taste and capacity of our
+companions. A kindly inclination it may be, and yet it is full of
+danger. He who may dare to be "all things to all men," must, like St.
+Paul, have set his feet on the rock Christ Jesus, and be exalted by the
+continual remembrance of the "cloud of witnesses" in the heavenly
+kingdom, and the fixed, all-searching glance of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</a></span> pure eye of God,
+reading the inmost soul.</p>
+
+<p>Insensibly Blair inclined to use the language in which his hearers
+couched their own thoughts. As we speak baby-talk to the infant, and
+broken English to the Frenchman, he unconsciously dealt in expressions
+adapted to the wild eager faces that looked into his. Here had surely
+been a temptation that would have dragged the young speaker down to the
+pit which the great adversary had made ready for him, but for the strong
+Deliverer who walked amid the flames of fire with the three faithful
+"children" of old.</p>
+
+<p>Blair saw his danger, and met it not in his own strength. Whether he sat
+down at table, or mingled in the groups on deck, or shared the watch of
+a companion, by a determined and prayerful effort he strove to keep in
+his mind the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">110</a></span> presence of "One like unto the Son of man." To him that
+face, unsullied by taint of sin or shame, was in the midst of the
+weather-beaten, guilt-marked countenances of the crew of the Molly. He
+who "turned and looked on Peter" was asking his young servant in a
+tender, appealing glance, "Will you blaspheme my name? Will you offend
+Him in whose eyes the heavens are not pure, and who chargeth even his
+angels with folly?"</p>
+
+<p>A deep "No; so help me God," was the full response of the whole being of
+Blair Robertson. He would watch his tongue and guard his lips by the
+continual prayer which should stir in his heart in the midst of speech,
+song, or tale of wild adventure.</p>
+
+<p>When the young sailor had taught his listeners gladly to hear when he
+would give them pleasure, he by degrees gave<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">111</a></span> full utterance to the
+natural language and interests of his heart. They learned to love to
+listen even when he poured forth in his peculiarly melodious voice some
+majestic mariner's hymn, or told in thrilling tones how some God-fearing
+seaman had stood at the helm of a burning ship and headed her to land,
+until he passed from amid the devouring flames to the glory of the
+kingdom of heaven. They heard and could not but admire the story of the
+unselfish Christian captain, who saw himself left alone on the sinking
+ship, but would not crowd the already overloaded boats with his manly
+form. He preferred to meet his doom in the path of duty, and on the deck
+where God had placed him go down to the depths of the sea, sure that his
+Saviour would there receive him and give him an abundant entrance into
+heaven.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">112</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Thus in his own way Blair was laboring for the welfare of his shipmates,
+ever praying that some good seed might be blessed by the Lord of the
+vineyard, and spring up unto eternal life.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_XIV." id="CHAPTER_XIV."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">113</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2><h3>DERRY DUCK.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Derry Duck having vouchsafed his protection to the young stranger, for a
+time sought no further intimacy with him. He might be seen occasionally
+among the groups who were won to hear a song or a story from Blair, but
+he was apt to leave these scenes suddenly, as if for some call of duty
+or stirred by some quick and painful thrust of feeling.</p>
+
+<p>Captain Knox was a stern, moody man, who had very little direct
+intercourse with his crew. Derry Duck was made his medium of
+communication on every ordinary occasion. The captain was the only
+person on board who kept a stock of writing materials, and from him,
+through Derry, Blair and the other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">114</a></span> sailors obtained such articles on
+the rare occasions when they were in demand. There was not much taste or
+time for literary efforts on board the Molly.</p>
+
+<p>A pleasant evening had collected all the sailors on deck, and Blair had
+taken the opportunity to retire below to spend some time in recalling
+Scripture to his mind, which was now his substitute for reading in the
+holy book. He was roused from his meditations by the entrance of Derry
+Duck, with an inkstand in one hand and a sheet of paper in the other.
+Blair rose as the mate came towards him, supposing the writing materials
+were to be left in his charge for some shipmate.</p>
+
+<p>"Sit down, boy," said Derry in his quick way, "sit down; I want you to
+do something for me."</p>
+
+<p>"I should be right glad to do any thing I could for you. You have been a
+real friend to me," said Blair warmly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">115</a></span> "You can't think how much I
+thank you for it."</p>
+
+<p>Derry sat down and laid the paper on the table before him. Then the two
+were for a moment silent. Blair and his "friend" formed a strange
+contrast to each other.</p>
+
+<p>The slender stripling, tall for his years, was yet in the blossom of his
+youth. His face, which was so like his loving mother's, would have been
+effeminate, but for the savor of old Joe Robertson the pilot, which told
+in the marked nose and strong chin of the boy, but had no part in his
+great, clear, soul-lit eyes, or the flexible lines of his changing
+mouth. That mouth was now parted as if he would say more, but waited for
+some word or sign from his companion.</p>
+
+<p>Deny Duck was a very bundle of time-worn, storm-tried muscles and
+sinews. The knots on his bare arms were<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">116</a></span> like knobs of oak; and his
+great brawny hand that lay there on the white paper, looked like a
+powerful living thing, having almost an identity and will of its own.</p>
+
+<p>Derry's body and whole development to his thighs were those of a tall,
+stalwart man; but his lower limbs were short and sturdy, ending in great
+flat feet which were as much at home in the water as on the rolling
+deck, or amid the dizzy rigging. These peculiarities had given him the
+name by which he was known&mdash;originally "Daring Duck," but by degrees
+contracted into the "Derry Duck" which Blair had caught from the
+sailors.</p>
+
+<p>It was hard to realize that the mate of the Molly had ever been an
+infant, whose tender cheek had been pressed to that of a loving mother.
+And yet it was true that a Christian mother had once hailed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</a></span> that
+hardened man as a gift from God to nurse for him. His lips had been
+taught to pray, and his young footsteps guided to the house of God.</p>
+
+<p>Time had made sad changes in him since then. His skin was now as tough
+and well-tanned as his leathern belt, in which hung many a curious
+implement of war and peace, a perfect tool-shop for the boarder's wild
+work, or the seaman's craft. In that strong, hard face there was a tale
+of a life of exposure, a lawless life, which had well-nigh given over to
+the evil one the soul which God meant for himself.</p>
+
+<p>"I want you to write a letter for me," said Derry, looking cautiously
+about him and then going on, "a letter to my little daughter. Hush; not
+a word of this to any of the men. When it is done, you must put it
+inside of one of your love-letters to your mother. They mustn't<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</a></span> get
+wind of it. They are not fit even to know I have such a child, much less
+to see her. Be secret! Can I trust you, my boy?"</p>
+
+<p>"I'll write for you with all my heart," said Blair in astonishment; "and
+of course I wont name it if you don't wish me to; no, not to a soul on
+board. But I shall have to tell my mother, or she wont know what to do
+with the letter."</p>
+
+<p>"Just ask her to mail it for one of your shipmates. That will be
+enough," said Derry quickly. "'Least said, soonest mended.' I have my
+reasons. I know which way the wind blows, and how to ward off a
+sou'-wester."</p>
+
+<p>"What shall I say?" said Blair, taking up the pen, and reaching for the
+paper. Derry's hand lay on it, a "paperweight" that did not move itself
+off at Blair's motion.</p>
+
+<p>"You see," began the sailor, "you see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">119</a></span> I've got a little daughter, not
+so old as you are by a year or two. I dare say you think she's made of
+coarse stuff like me, fit for the rough and tumble of life. No such
+thing. Her hand is white as a sail on a summer sea, and her little round
+cheek is so soft, Oh, so soft, that when it snugs up to mine it seems as
+if an angel was touching me, and I feel as if I wasn't fit for such as
+her to love and fondle. Yet she loves me; she loves her old dad. She
+don't call me Derry Duck, not she. She don't know any thing about Derry
+Duck, and what he does when he 's off on the sea. I don't mean she ever
+shall. I'd rather die first, gnawed to pieces by a hungry shark. Her
+mother left her to me, a little two-year-old thing, a clinging little
+creature that would snug in my arms and go to sleep, whether I was drunk
+or sober. I killed her mother&mdash;sent her to the better country before
+her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">120</a></span> time. I didn't lay my hand to her; I wasn't bad enough for that.
+But my ways took the pink out of her cheeks, and made her pine away and
+just go out of my sight like the wake of a passing ship. Where she had
+been, there she was not. I loved her, boy, and these eyes cried; these
+great hands would have willingly been worn to the bone with hard work,
+if that could have restored her life. I don't drink any more. I've quit
+that. I haven't touched a drop since she died. I took to the sea. I made
+up my mind I wouldn't kill the little tender thing she left me. <i>She</i>
+should never die for knowing how bad her father was. I took the little
+money I had, and bought a real gentleman's suit of clothes. Then I went
+to a minister I knew about, in a far away town, where my&mdash;never mind
+where the child's mother came from&mdash;and I asked him and his wife to take
+care of the lit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">121</a></span>tle thing, for a sorrowful man that was going off on the
+sea, and would pay well for what they did. I knew it wasn't the money
+that would make them lay their hand to the work; but they had nothing to
+spare, and I didn't mean to leave her to charity. I wanted her brought
+up to be like her mother, in ways that wouldn't end where I'm going.
+They took her, and there she is. Nobody can see her without loving her,
+such a little, dainty, winning, clinging, pretty thing, nine years have
+made out of the toddlin' creature I put out of my arms, that ached after
+her till I was clear out of sight of land. Don't think I miss seeing her
+when I'm ashore. Don't I leave Derry Duck aboard ship, and put on my
+landsman's clothes, and ride up to the door where she is, with my pocket
+full of money. She don't lack for any thing, I warrant you. She's
+dressed like a rose, all in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">122</a></span> pink and green, with little ribbons
+fluttering like her little heart when she sees me coming. She's learning
+too. Why, she knows most enough to teach the queen, the child does. And
+then she's so modest and asks me questions, as if I could tell her every
+thing. I always have a cold or a headache or something, and can't say
+much when I'm there. I keep still, and take my fill of looking at her,
+and hugging her close to this old tough heart. I wouldn't let out an
+oath before her. I'd rather see the Molly go to the bottom in fair
+weather. I'm scant of my talk, lest I should let out that my way of
+thinking is different from hers. I wouldn't have her pretty blue eyes
+turn away from me, so sorrowful, yet so loving, just as her mother's
+used to. I couldn't bear that. She loves me, that little pure thing,
+that says its prayers night and morning, and asks God to bless<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">123</a></span> its
+father on the sea. She's my angel. Mayhap those little prayers will get
+heard some day, and a blessing will come to me and make me a different
+man. Only the Almighty could turn Derry Duck into a father fit for that
+child's eyes to look on. My heart yearns after her when I'm far away,
+but I don't let her write to me. I wouldn't have such men as I live with
+know where my flower hides its little head. I wouldn't have her run a
+chance of seeing any body who knows Derry Duck, and might tell her of
+his wild ways. It would break her little heart, it would. I can't write
+to her; not but what I was scholard somewhat, long ago; but these hands
+have had other work to do than holding a pen and making letters that a
+wise little girl like her would think all right. I couldn't either put
+into words just what I want to say. It a'n't much that I would say,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">124</a></span>
+neither, but a kind of letting out how I set all the world by her, and
+want her to be just so much better than other folks as I am worse.
+Something would slip in that shouldn't, if I was to try; I know there
+would. But you can write for me. You would know just how to put it. She
+says she yearns after me when I'm gone, and would be so full of joy if
+she could once have a letter from me, all her own, to read over and over
+when she can't throw her arms round my neck and put her little loving
+face close up to mine. Will you write for me, boy, something for the
+dear girl to read over, and think the right kind of a father is talking
+to her, a man she wouldn't be ashamed of before the company her mother
+keeps <i>up there</i>?"</p>
+
+<p>The last words were spoken reverently, and formed a strange contrast to
+much that had gone before. We have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">125</a></span> omitted the oaths and rough
+expletives with which Derry interlarded his speech. There is the taint
+of sin even in the repetition of such language.</p>
+
+<p>Blair Robertson had listened with a throbbing heart and tearful eye to
+the sailor's story. It seemed to him that God had not quite cast off one
+who had such a tender care for the happiness and purity of his child.
+Blair gently laid his slender hand on Derry's brawny fingers, and looked
+up earnestly into his face as he said, "Why can't you be just such a
+father, Derry?"</p>
+
+<p>Derry laughed a sorrowful, derisive laugh, and then said almost
+fiercely, "You don't know me, lad. It would chill your very blood to
+know what I've done, and where I've been. There are spots on me that
+nothing can wash out. I've grown into it, boy. It's my life. I'm hard
+and tough, soul and body.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">126</a></span> There's no making me over. I'm spoiled in the
+grain. I tell you it's too late. I a'n't a father for her to know. I
+can't be made into one. That a'n't what I came here to talk about. Will
+you write my letter, that's the question?"</p>
+
+<p>"Certainly I will write for you in the way that seems to me the best.
+But, Derry, 'there is a fountain opened for sin and all uncleanness.'
+'The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin.' 'If any man be in
+Christ Jesus, he is a <i>new creature</i>; old things have passed away.'
+'With God all things are possible.' 'Christ Jesus came into the world to
+save sinners.' 'Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as
+snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.'"</p>
+
+<p>As Blair spoke these words, he fixed his earnest eyes on the sailor's
+face, and seemed pleading for his very soul.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">127</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"There is a look about you like her, like her <i>up there</i>," said Derry,
+almost trembling. "I see her face in the dark night when I'm on the
+watch, and her eyes speak to me just as yours do&mdash;Oh, so pleading. Hush!
+There's some one coming. Write the letter as if it was one of your own.
+They wont hector you now. I've taught 'em better manners. Let me see 'em
+touch a hair of your head, and I'll finish 'em quick."</p>
+
+<p>As Derry spoke, he gave a thrust with his clenched fist as at an
+imaginary enemy. The eyes that had lately been softened into tenderness
+had their old fierce twinkle, and his hard features settled into their
+fixed expression of determined daring.</p>
+
+<p>The men gave place as he forced his way up the hatchway. On he went,
+stamping along the deck as if he ground an enemy beneath his heel at
+every step.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_XV." id="CHAPTER_XV."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">128</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2><h3>A LETTER.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Blair would gladly have chosen another time and place for the
+composition of the difficult letter he was called on to write, but he
+felt compelled to fulfil his promise at once. The men passed by him in
+silence, save the single remark of Brimstone, "Give my love to your
+<i>sweet</i> mother," delivered in an insulting tone, and with a laugh more
+repulsive than the hiss of a snake.</p>
+
+<p>Blair glanced anxiously in the direction where Derry had disappeared,
+almost fearing to see that clenched hand coming forth to do its
+threatened work of vengeance. But Derry was already far away, and
+Brimstone joined his mess-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">129</a></span>mates without receiving a word or sign of
+rebuke.</p>
+
+<p>Blair took up his pen with a silent prayer that it might be guided by
+Him without whose aid vain are the most eloquent words of the wisest
+counsellor. His letter was as follows:</p>
+
+<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">Dear</span> &mdash;&mdash; I don't know your name, but your father is my
+friend, and of course I feel interested in you for his sake. He has
+been very kind to me, and it is a great pleasure to me to do any
+thing for him. He has been talking to me of you, and while he has
+gone on deck he wants me to write to you. How he loves you. You are
+the bright spot to him in life, his oasis in the desert of this
+weary world. When he is far out on the wide sea, your face comes up
+before him, and makes the loneliest place a home. He loves to think
+that you pray for him. He feels that he needs your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">130</a></span> prayers. Happy
+are the fathers who, plunged in earthly cares on sea and land, have
+children to fold their hands and lift their hearts in prayer for
+them. This is all you can do for your absent father. Though you
+could give him crowns and kingdoms, wealth and honor, they would
+not be worth as much as one earnest, faithful, importunate prayer
+in Jesus' name. That name is all-powerful, and <i>must prevail</i>. Your
+father calls you his 'little flower.' He wants his little flower to
+be pure and modest and simple, like the lily, which all may
+consider and see in it the handiwork of God. Only God, who made
+this beautiful world, can purify and cleanse our souls and help us
+to walk in his holy ways. I know that you have been taught all this
+by the kind friends who have watched over you from infancy. Your
+father wants you to give good heed to their counsel, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">131</a></span> ever
+watch and pray and struggle against temptation. No blow could fall
+on him so sore as to know his little darling was walking in the
+wrong path. May you never so grieve his fond heart. Again I must
+tell you, though you have read it in his repeated caresses, how
+your father loves you. May you be to him that best of treasures, a
+prayerful, pious daughter, is the sincere wish of</p>
+
+<p class='center'>"Your father's friend,</p>
+
+<p class='author'>"BLAIR ROBERTSON."</p>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>Blair folded his letter, and then addressing a few lines to his mother,
+he inclosed the two in a single envelope, and sought out Derry for
+further directions. Derry was pacing up and down the deck, making the
+boards ring with his heavy tread.</p>
+
+<p>"Shall I read you what I have written?" said Blair, laying his hand on
+Derry's shoulder.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">132</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Derry started as if in a dream; but recollecting himself, he said
+quickly, "Yes, yes. Here, here in the moonlight. No one will listen
+here."</p>
+
+<p>The light of the full moon fell on the open letter, and Blair read it
+without difficulty.</p>
+
+<p>"That's it, that's it. Every word of it true," said Derry in a voice
+trembling with feeling. "It would kill me to think of her going wrong.
+But she wont. Her way is <i>up</i>, and mine is <i>down, down, down</i>. Give me
+the letter; I'll put the right name on it. You don't mind my seeing what
+goes to your mother. That's no more than fair. I tell you I don't like
+folks to know where my flower hides. I'll see it into the bag, and mind
+you don't breathe a word of this. Mind!"</p>
+
+<p>Derry's finger was raised in a threatening attitude as he spoke, and he
+stopped after he had moved some steps<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">133</a></span> away to give again to Blair this
+sign of silence and secrecy.</p>
+
+<p>Blair lingered on deck, not to enjoy the calm moonlight which so
+lovingly crowned and silvered the crests of the waves. His eyes were
+lifted upward, but not to gaze on the deep blue of the moonlit sky. To
+the great Creator, without whom was not any thing made that was made,
+Blair was pouring out the earnest petitions of his loving heart. For
+Derry and his little daughter prayed the young Christian, as they only
+can pray who believe the blessed words, "If ye shall ask any thing in my
+name, I will do it."</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_XVI." id="CHAPTER_XVI."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">134</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2><h3>A MARVEL.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Weeks flew by while the Molly was cruising about, waiting and watching
+for the expected East Indiaman. The privateer, meanwhile, was not losing
+time. Several small merchant vessels came in her way, and submitted
+without a blow to the argument of her compelling pair of guns. These
+vessels were either stripped of their cargo and then burnt, or else sent
+with a few sailors as their prize crew to some American port. The
+capture of the British merchant ships kept the Molly supplied with the
+necessaries for her continued cruise, and served besides to calm the
+impatience of the men, who were beginning to complain of their captain's
+pertinacious clinging to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">135</a></span> hope of taking the East Indiaman, which
+might already be safely harbored in English waters. There had been dark
+nights and foggy days in which she might well have passed them, so they
+reasoned. But Derry Duck said there was no moving the captain, and
+grumblers would do best to "keep their tongues between their teeth." The
+mail-bag of the Molly had gone home on board one of the captured
+vessels, and it was a pleasant thought to Blair that his dear mother
+would soon feel almost as if she heard the voice of her son at her side.
+Derry's little daughter too would receive her letter, and Blair tried to
+picture her joy as she held this treasure in her hands.</p>
+
+<p>Derry moved about in his usual way, but was inclined to avoid Blair
+since the night when he had given the boy his confidence. Blair often
+found it hard to believe that those gentle, tender tones<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">136</a></span> had come from
+Derry's great closely shut mouth, and that those snapping eyes had
+softened almost to tears as he spoke of his darling child.</p>
+
+<p>Sunday on board the Molly was precisely like other days, as far as the
+movements and occupations of the men were concerned. To Blair there was
+ever a more solemn stillness over the sea, and a more imposing grandeur
+in the wide canopy of the overhanging sky. One great temple it seemed to
+him, the sunlit waves its shining floor, the firmament its arching roof,
+and the unseen angels the countless worshippers, singing, "Praise and
+glory and honor be unto the name of God most high." In this adoring song
+Blair heartily joined, and he longed and prayed for the time to come
+when on every white-winged ship there should be gathered the servants of
+the Lord of sabaoth, rejoicing to call upon his holy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">137</a></span> name and give him
+glory for all his wondrous works.</p>
+
+<p>Absorbed in such thoughts as these, Blair was leaning over the side of
+the ship one Sunday morning. Suddenly a strong voice close at his side
+spoke with deep earnestness the words, "Bless the Lord, O my soul; and
+all that is within me, bless his holy name."</p>
+
+<p>Blair turned in astonishment, and saw Derry Duck close at his side.
+Tears were coursing down those rough cheeks, and the almost blinded eyes
+were lifted reverently upward, and silently spoke the same language as
+the song of praise.</p>
+
+<p>Blair's heart bounded. He could not be deceived. One of God's great
+miracles of grace had been wrought. The devil had been cast out, and the
+ransomed was giving God the glory. It must be so.</p>
+
+<p>Blair seized the hand of his companion, and looking into his face, said
+quick<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">138</a></span>ly, "Oh, Derry, are you really in earnest?"</p>
+
+<p>"Bless the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits: who forgiveth
+all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases; who redeemeth thy
+life from destruction; who crowneth thee with loving-kindness and tender
+mercies,'" continued Derry with deep feeling. "He found me dead in
+trespasses and sins; he has given me new life in Christ Jesus. Praise
+and honor unto his holy name."</p>
+
+<p>Tears rushed to the eyes of Blair Robertson. A fervent "Thank God!" was
+all he could utter. Blair's whole being did indeed "magnify the Lord" at
+this wonderful evidence of his power. Curses had been changed to
+praises. The blaspheming lips had been touched by the Saviour's hand,
+and taught the language of the children of God. His young servant could
+not but "stand in awe," and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">139</a></span> own the might and the wonderful mercy of
+the King of kings.</p>
+
+<p>Derry was the first to break the solemn silence. "Those words never left
+me: 'Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though
+they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool,'" he said. "They stuck
+to me, and rang in my ears and searched every nook and cranny of my
+wicked heart. Often I had longed to be a Christian man for the little
+dear's sake, if not for my own; but I said to myself, 'No, Derry Duck,
+you are all pitch, you can't be made white;' and Satan helped me to hold
+on to that way of thinking. Your scripture gave the lie again and again
+to that. It seemed to say to me, <i>You</i> choose blackness and damnation,
+when God asks you to wash and be clean. What I've suffered these weeks,
+no soul out of perdition can tell. The devil clung to me.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">140</a></span> He would not
+let me go. He claimed me for his own. He told over to me my dark, hidden
+sins, and taunted me that I had gone too far to go back now. He hissed
+in my ear that no power could cleanse and save such as me. Then came up
+the words, 'With God all things are possible,' 'Though your sins be as
+scarlet, they shall be white as snow.' 'Christ Jesus came into the world
+to save <i>sinners</i>.' And he has saved <i>me</i>. I am <i>His</i>. He has given me a
+mouth to praise him. O Blair, think of his wonderful mercy, to take poor
+wicked Derry Duck into the kingdom of heaven."</p>
+
+<p>The boy's heart throbbed and swelled with joy and praise. What was the
+changing of water to wine, or the calming of the stormy sea, compared to
+this marvellous miracle wrought in a living human soul? "He to whom much
+is forgiven, loveth much," said our blessed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">141</a></span> Saviour; and in Derry this
+truth was abundantly verified. The Christ whose blood could wash such as
+he, was a Lord for whom he was willing to suffer even unto death. The
+mercy that could stoop to ransom such a transgressor, claimed an
+affection before which poor Derry's deep love for his earthly darling
+paled, as the things of time fade into insignificance before the things
+of eternity.</p>
+
+<p>Blair had longed to see his rude shipmates forsaking their sins; he had
+prayed and wrestled in prayer for them. Yet now, when he saw the work
+begun before his eyes, he felt the faithlessness of those very prayers,
+and knew that they could have won no fulfilment, but for the merits of
+the great Intercessor in whose name they had ever been offered.</p>
+
+<p>"Why should it be thought a thing incredible to you that God should
+raise the dead?" This question of the apostle<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">142</a></span> comes with power to the
+Christians of our own day. Do you really believe it <i>possible</i> for God
+to raise to newness of life the dead in trespasses and sins? There is no
+soul so hardened that it cannot be melted to penitence by the touch of
+the mighty Spirit of God. Let this thought make us fervent, importunate,
+instant in prayer for the souls that are at death's door and hasting to
+destruction.</p>
+
+<p>Can any thing but the power of God make the moral man, once proud of his
+own uprightness, humble as the little child, leaning only on the cross
+of Christ for salvation? He who works this wonder can do yet more. What
+are the sins and self-will of the human heart, in comparison with the
+might of the majesty of Jehovah? He who laid the strong foundations of
+the earth, and led forth the marshalled millions of the stars in their
+wonderful order, can mould and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">143</a></span> fashion the soul of man at his will. Let
+us not stand doubting, timid, and faint-hearted, discouraged by the foul
+sins which blot and efface in man the fair image of his Maker. Let us
+rather "come boldly to the throne of grace," and plead through the great
+Intercessor for every wanderer from the right path, and specially and
+perseveringly for those dear ones of our own households, who, like the
+prodigal, have left the Father's house, to be in misery and want in
+sin's far foreign land.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_XVII." id="CHAPTER_XVII."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">144</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2><h3>THE CONFLICT.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Each kind affection nature gives</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Religion makes more bright,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">As sunshine on the landscape falls,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And beautifies with light.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>The patriot had hitherto been sleeping in the heart of Derry Duck; but
+now he was to awake like a "strong man armed." There is not one kindly,
+pleasant, honorable feeling, but is strengthened and ennobled by the
+touch of divine grace. Nor only so: he who finds himself suddenly alive
+to his allegiance to God, has at the same time his vision cleared to see
+around him a thousand hitherto unknown or neglected ties, which bind him
+to his fellow-men. In a whisper of conscience, he is taught that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">145</a></span></p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">He is the faithful patriot,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Who keeps his Maker's laws;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Nor will the servant of his Lord</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Forsake his country's cause.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Among the sins of which Derry Duck was called deeply to repent, was the
+dishonor which he had brought on his own Christian land, in many a port
+where his wild deeds had left their guilty trace. What had he done for
+the glory of Christian America? Bravely he had fought under her flag;
+but it had been through reckless daring, or a thirst for gold. Not for a
+noble principle, not for the defence of home and kindred, altar and
+hearth-stone, had he raised his strong right arm.</p>
+
+<p>Blair Robertson rejoiced to see the spirit of true patriotism awaking in
+the bosom of the hardy sailor. The high-souled boy had now a sharer in
+his enthusiastic love of his country, and devotion to her cause. They
+joined their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">146</a></span> labors at once to improve the defenders of the flag, who
+were their shipmates, and yet a disgrace to their native land. Blair
+went on in his own peculiar way; while Derry at once announced his
+position as a Christian mate, who would suffer no profanity in his
+hearing, and would see the crew of the Molly engage in no deeds on the
+high seas, not sanctioned by the letters of marque which were their
+warrant for their blows struck against the common foe.</p>
+
+<p>Some outward change had been produced in the men of the privateer, when
+all thoughts were suddenly turned into a new channel. A fast sailing
+American merchant ship informed Captain Knox that the expected East
+Indiaman was not more than half a day behind her.</p>
+
+<p>All was at once stir and bustle from stem to stern of the Molly. The
+sturdy little craft was like the bristling porcu<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">147</a></span>pine, ready and
+impatient for action, when the masts of the East Indiaman slowly rose
+above the horizon. The privateer gave chase at once, and rapidly neared
+its prey. The guns of the Molly gave the signal for surrender. The
+British flag went down, and Derry Duck, with a strong party of boarders
+was sent at once to seize the valuable prize.</p>
+
+<p>Ready to pounce on their defenceless victims, the eager sailors climbed
+the sides of the huge vessel and stood upon its deck, cutlass and pistol
+in hand. Suddenly the hatchways were thrown open, and a band of British
+soldiers sprang forth with a fierce battle-cry. Derry Duck rushed among
+them with desperate valor, and was heartily seconded by his fearless
+followers.</p>
+
+<p>From the deck of the Molly, Captain Knox could see the trap into which
+he had fallen. He could not use his well-<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">148</a></span>loaded guns without
+destruction to his own men. He could only send reinforcements to their
+small band, and quietly see the battle fought hand to hand, which a few
+cannon balls would have settled in a moment.</p>
+
+<p>Several skilful British marksmen were firing at the few who remained on
+the approaching privateer, when Captain Knox ordered Blair aloft.</p>
+
+<p>Blair obeyed without a moment's hesitation, and sped upward as if in the
+glee of boyhood's play. Yet in the heart of the young patriot there was
+prayer for his soul, should it be set free in that hour of danger; there
+was burning love for his country's cause. The eye of Derry Duck fell on
+the isolated group who had been firing at the privateer. He saw a
+well-known form climbing to the dizzy masthead, while the shot were
+flying around him. Derry rushed in among<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">149</a></span> them with his axe in his hand,
+and waving it around his head scattered them like leaves before the
+wind. He stayed long enough to see that Blair had not dropped like a
+wounded bird among the rigging of the Molly.</p>
+
+<p>Slowly, very slowly, the boy made his way to the deck, then sank down
+faint and bleeding. A bullet had entered his side; yet he had been so
+ready for the stroke that it had not thrown him off his guard. Although
+weak and giddy, he had made his way down his narrow pathway, and
+reported his duty done. Even the hardy captain gave a pitying glance at
+the brave boy as he was borne below by the sailors. Yet this was no time
+for such thoughts in the mind of Captain Knox. The reinforcement from
+the Molly were on the deck of the East Indiaman. He could hear the
+hearty cheer of Derry Duck as he placed himself at their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">150</a></span> head, and
+rushed upon the brave Britons.</p>
+
+<p>Derry's impetuous charge was too much for the soldiers, many of them
+enfeebled by the climate of India, and going home to recruit in their
+native breezes. Over the deck swept Derry and his band like a fierce
+hurricane, which naught can stay or withstand. A shout of victory went
+up from the Molly, a shout which Derry's excited men sent back over the
+water in a deafening reply. The East Indiaman was won; her crew were
+prisoners; her cargo the prize of the Molly.</p>
+
+<p>Where was Blair Robertson amid the general triumph? This was Derry
+Duck's first question, as his returning footsteps again trod the deck of
+the privateer.</p>
+
+<p>Alone in the deserted cabin, Derry found what was more precious to him
+now than his share in the glory or the spoils of the recent fight.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">151</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The rough sailor asked no questions of the fainting lad. Tearing open
+Blair's garments, he found at once the wound, and with ready skill and
+unwavering firmness his sharp knife did the surgeon's duty. The bullet
+was forced out by Derry's hard fingers, and his rough hands tied the
+bandage with a touching attempt at tenderness. Blair uttered no murmur.
+His lips moved gently, but they whispered only words befitting the
+sinner passing into the presence of his God.</p>
+
+<p>Derry caught the low whisper, and understood its meaning. "I can't let
+you go. What! going? Oh my lad!" and Derry Duck's hard, blood-marked
+face was suddenly wet with tears.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_XVIII." id="CHAPTER_XVIII."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">152</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2><h3>WAGES.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>The East Indiaman was too important a prize to be trusted to any other
+than the skilful sailor and brave officer, Derry Duck. He was at once
+ordered to prepare to take her into an American port, with all due
+formalities.</p>
+
+<p>Derry's sea-chest contained more than his scanty wardrobe, his golden
+gains during this long cruise were garnered there. Yet he trusted it to
+the hands of unscrupulous men, while his own arms found a more welcome
+burden. Tenderly as a mother bears her sleeping infant, Derry clasped a
+slender figure to his rough bosom, and would suffer no one to give him
+aid in his office of love. There was a gentle pulsation in the heart so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">153</a></span>
+near to his. There was a growing warmth in the form which was so
+precious to the mate of the Molly.</p>
+
+<p>Blair was still alive, and Derry would allow no duty to interfere with
+the sacred privilege of caring for the wounded youth, and bearing him
+home, living or dead, to his mother.</p>
+
+<p>On a couch of Indian luxury Derry laid the prostrate figure of Blair
+Robertson, and as he turned to leave the cabin, the face of the once
+hardened tar was softened into womanly gentleness as he said, "God help
+him, and bring him to, sound and well."</p>
+
+<p>The excessive faintness and exhaustion of the wound had indeed seemed to
+Blair like the lingering, reluctant parting of soul and body; and he
+might well have adopted the words of that hymn, honored by the murmured
+breathings of many a dying saint:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">154</a></span></p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"What is this absorbs me quite,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Steals my senses, shuts my sight,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Drowns my spirit, draws my breath?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Tell me, my soul, can this be death?</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The world recedes, it disappears:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Heaven opens on my eyes, my ears</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">With sounds seraphic ring:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lend, lend your wings: I mount, I fly;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">O grave, where is thy victory!</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">O death, where is thy sting!"</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>The curtain which separates this lower world from the glories of the
+unseen bliss above, had grown thin and almost transparent to the eyes of
+the Christian boy, thus brought to the gates of death. Near, very near
+to him seemed the face of the Saviour who had of late been his realized
+and beloved companion. It was as the mother bows down to her suffering
+child, that this glimpse of the dear Redeemer was made so plain to the
+weakened, prostrate boy. He was still in the flesh, and to know weary
+waiting and suffering, ere health should once<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">155</a></span> more send the glad blood
+bounding along his veins.</p>
+
+<p>Yet there was work for Blair Robertson on his couch of pain, work to do
+for his heavenly Master. Blair was not the only sufferer on board the
+prize.</p>
+
+<p>Often during the homeward voyage, a settee was placed beside the soft
+couch which Derry had appropriated to Blair's especial use. The occupant
+of the settee was a huge, muscular, repulsive young man, whose yellow
+hair lay uncombed on his pillow, while his pale, freckle-marked face
+was distorted with pain, rage, and the torture of a rebellious spirit,
+when sorely smitten by the hand of God.</p>
+
+<p>Many of Brimstone's fierce shipmates had been hurried into eternity in
+the midst of the struggle on the deck of the East Indiaman. Blair's
+coarse tormentor, however, had escaped with his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">156</a></span> life, but with one leg
+so wounded and bruised that it was promptly cut off, as the only way of
+preventing ultimate death. Brimstone ground his teeth and swore fearful
+imprecations at each movement that reminded him of his loss. It was in
+vain that Derry bade him be quiet, and rather thank God that time was
+left him for repentance. In Brimstone's hardened heart there seemed no
+resting-place for good seed, no soil prepared for the heavenly plant.</p>
+
+<p>His only relief was in forgetfulness of his misfortune, when he was
+wiled from thoughts of himself by one of Blair's stirring tales of
+adventure, or ballads of the olden time. Blair would weary out his
+little strength for the benefit of his companion, and yet win not one
+word of thanks for his kindly endeavors. Yet he persevered, ever
+mingling in his stories and songs whispers of the only source<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">157</a></span> of
+comfort for the afflicted, the only balm for the suffering soul.</p>
+
+<p>Brimstone's wild and wicked life had poisoned the very sources and flow
+of his life's blood. His was no flesh to heal, like that of a healthy
+child.</p>
+
+<p>While Blair was daily making long strides towards health, fierce pains
+and burning inflammation seized on Brimstone's stunted limb. Then no
+voice could soothe him, no words of comfort reach his ear. He chafed and
+tossed upon his narrow couch like a wounded beast of the forest, and
+finally refused to suffer any hand to dress or touch the afflicted part.</p>
+
+<p>Pain ceased at last, the end was near. Death would soon claim the
+loathsome body, and bring the polluted soul before the judgment-bar.
+Blair gently told the sufferer the awful truth, yet not from the lips of
+the lad would he believe such an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">158</a></span> announcement. It was not until Derry's
+blunt confirmation made sure the fearful tidings, that the dying man
+would believe that he stood on the brink of eternity.</p>
+
+<p>We draw the curtain on the horrors of the scenes that followed. May it
+never be the reader's lot to hear the desperate cries of a ruined soul
+about to meet its God.</p>
+
+<p>The transgressor must eat of the fruit of his choice, and sink into the
+pit towards which his face has been resolutely set. The <i>wages</i> of sin
+is death.</p>
+
+<p>Vain were the pleadings of Blair, and the rougher urgency of Derry,
+calling on the dying man to lift his eyes to the cross of Christ, trust,
+and be saved.</p>
+
+<p>With a fearful howl of anguish the condemned soul took its flight; while
+his companions, awe-struck, prayed God to spare them such a doom.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">159</a></span></p>
+
+<p>On the dark waters the body of Brimstone was cast, to be seen no more
+until it should rise at the last day, we fear, to the resurrection of
+damnation.</p>
+
+<p>Lost seemed the labors of Blair Robertson for the good of his worthless
+shipmate; but no prayerful effort for the holy cause is vain. Blair had
+other listeners than the ear to which he spoke. Unconscious of all
+around him, he had but striven to touch and uplift the soul of the dying
+man. The group of sailors gathered round the departing wretch would soon
+be scattered far and wide on the rolling seas, thousands of miles from
+the home of Blair Robertson, and the solemn truths he had spoken might
+spring up in their hearts and bear fruit unto eternal life.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_XIX." id="CHAPTER_XIX."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">160</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XIX.</h2><h3>HOME.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>A light fall of snow had clothed all Fairport in white, and whispered in
+the ears of lingering birds that they had better be off for the "sunny
+south," ere old winter had fairly begun his icy reign. Cold and dark,
+the waters of the harbor lay encircled by the pure and glistening land.
+Cheerful wood fires were warming many a hearth-stone, while wives and
+mothers thought of their absent ones on the sea, and hoped and prayed no
+chilling storm might be rending their sails and perilling the lives so
+precious to home and native land.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. Robertson had suffered from many anxious thoughts since the
+departure of her brave son. But hers was not a timid<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">161</a></span> or a repining
+spirit. She knew that the same eye watched over him on sea as on land;
+and the almighty arm could protect him as well upon the deep waters, as
+in the shelter of his mother's fireside.</p>
+
+<p>Fairport glasses had plainly seen the British colors mounted by the
+vessel which had borne away the young pilot. The mother's heart throbbed
+as she mentally pictured the determined patriotism of her darling son.
+Not merely a fancy and a picture that scene remained.</p>
+
+<p>The two privateers which had given chase to the dismantled British
+vessel had an easy victory, and soon brought her triumphantly into
+Boston harbor. Hal Hutching's story won him liberty at once. The English
+boy had no sooner set foot on land, than he turned his face in the
+direction of Fairport. Way-worn and foot-sore he was, when he knocked at
+last at Mrs. Robertson's door. Warmth<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">162</a></span> and welcome, love and gratitude
+awaited him within. It was his privilege first to tell the mother how
+nobly her son had borne himself in the hour of trial, and with what
+calmness he had faced the king of terrors. Poor Hal by turns wept and
+glowed with enthusiasm, as he dwelt on the praise of his friend, while
+the mother's heart welled with deep thankfulness at the mercy which had
+so spared and honored her boy.</p>
+
+<p>Many and many a time was Hal Hutchings forced to tell over his story to
+auditors of all ages and conditions. The Fairport Guard, formally
+assembled, demanded the right of a relation especially for them. Every
+young heart beat high, and every eye flashed with kindling pride in
+their brave commander, and each one resolved to be, like him, an honor
+to his home and country. Like Lycurgus, their leader had given his laws,
+then left his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">163</a></span> followers to be faithful until his return. Anew they
+pledged themselves to keep their pure code, and strive to be a body
+which Blair Robertson the patriot would not be ashamed to command.</p>
+
+<p>Hal Hutchings meekly bore the reflected honors that were thrust upon
+him, and well understood that it was his connection with the absent
+Fairport boy which made him such an object of interest. Hal however did
+not object to the golden gains which resulted from his new position.
+Everybody was ready to give him "a job" now, and his old clothes were
+soon exchanged for new ones, bought with his own money and adapted to
+his own taste.</p>
+
+<p>Not a day passed that did not see Hal Hutchings at Mrs. Robertson's
+door, to lend his strong arm and willing feet to do for her some little
+kindness, a true labor of love. When the Sabbath was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">164</a></span> wearing away, Hal
+might be seen moving his coarse finger slowly along the sacred page,
+reading holy words, to which Mrs. Robertson from time to time added her
+voice of explanation or gentle persuasive counsel.</p>
+
+<p>So the chilling weeks of autumn passed at Fairport, and now the first
+snow was ushering in November's dreary rule. A strong landward breeze
+was rolling the waves one after another as in a merry chase towards the
+shore, while the Fairport Guard were gathered on the wharf, valiantly
+fighting a battle with snowballs. The appearance of a ship entering the
+harbor soon called the attention of the combatants away from the
+"charge, rally, and charge again," in which they had just been engaged.
+Men muffled in greatcoats came out of the neighboring stores and
+offices, and shivered in the cold wind as they bent their eyes on the
+stranger<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">165</a></span> ship, for so at once they pronounced her.</p>
+
+<p>"British build and rigging, but the right colors flying. She knows the
+channel. See, she makes it as well as if she had Joe Robertson himself
+on board. There now, don't she come up the harbor as if this was her
+home, and she knew just where she was going to cast anchor?"</p>
+
+<p>Remarks like these dropped from the lips of the eager watchers:</p>
+
+<p>"I shouldn't wonder if it was our captain coming from foreign parts,"
+said a small member of the Fairport Guard. "He's took that ship as
+likely as not, and is coming home in her."</p>
+
+<p>"Pshaw, child," burst from several listeners.</p>
+
+<p>"I wish we did know where that boy is," said another speaker. "He's a
+credit to this place, that's certain."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">166</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"He's an honor to America," said Hal Hutchings, who was now allowed to
+give his views on all occasions. Hal's face was bent forward, and his
+eye was fixed on a slender lad who was anxiously looking towards the
+shore. "It's him, it's him; it's Blair, I tell you. It's him," shouted
+Hal, throwing his cap in the air, and giving three leaps that would have
+astounded a catamount.</p>
+
+<p>Hal Hutchings fought his way to the privilege of being the first to
+grasp Blair's hand, as he stepped ashore; then there was a perfect rush
+of hands and a cheer from young and old that Derry Duck said was the
+pleasantest music that ever he heard.</p>
+
+<p>"Where is she? Where's my mother, Hal?" said Blair as soon as he could
+speak.</p>
+
+<p>"Hearty, hearty, and just like an angel as she always was," said Hal
+vocifer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">167</a></span>ously. The boy's joy seemed to have made him almost beside
+himself. "She don't know you're here, she don't. I'll be off to tell
+her."</p>
+
+<p>"No, Hal, no. I'll be there in a minute myself," said Blair, moving off
+at a marvellous pace for a boy who had been wounded so lately.</p>
+
+<p>The Fairport Guard fell into rank and followed their commander, while a
+motly crowd brought up the rear.</p>
+
+<p>Blair stood on the familiar door-step. He laid his hand on the lock, and
+paused for a second to calm his swelling emotions, in which gratitude to
+God was even stronger than the deep love for his mother.</p>
+
+<p>Quietly sat Mrs. Robertson, plying the needle at her fireside, when the
+door gently opened, and her son stood before her.</p>
+
+<p>That was a moment of joy too deep<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">168</a></span> for description. While the mother and
+son were clasped in a long embrace, Hal could not help having his share
+of the interview by crying out, "He's come home! Be n't it splendid?
+He's come! Dear, dear, I shall burst."</p>
+
+<p>"You dear good fellow," said Blair, throwing his arm over Hal's
+shoulder, "you've been a comfort to my mother, I know."</p>
+
+<p>"That he has," said Mrs. Robertson. "It was he who told me how your
+noble courage saved your native town and the very home of your mother
+from the flames. I thank God for such a son."</p>
+
+<p>"Then I did what you would have wished, mother. Your praise is my
+precious reward," said Blair with affectionate simplicity.</p>
+
+<p>"God has sustained you in the path of duty, and brought you in safety to
+your home and your mother. Let us<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">169</a></span> thank him for all his mercies, my
+son. Hal is no stranger to prayer now; he will gladly join us."</p>
+
+<p>It was indeed the voice of true thanksgiving which rose from those
+grateful hearts. He who has contrived joys for the meanest of his
+creatures, doubtless takes a pure pleasure in the happiness which he
+gives to his chosen ones even here; and rejoices to know that it is but
+the foreshadowing of that eternal delight in store for them where
+parting shall be no more.</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_XX." id="CHAPTER_XX."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">170</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XX.</h2><h3>SACRED JOY.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>Sweetly the Sabbath bells sounded in the ear of Blair Robertson. What a
+joy it was to be once more at home, once more in his native land. How
+delightful the thought that prayer had already gone up from many family
+altars, and already Christ's little ones were gathering to be taught of
+him and sing his praise. To dwell among the ungodly is indeed a bitter
+trial. The society of the unprincipled had been to Blair like a dark
+cloud overshadowing his pathway; and it was a new delight to him to be
+once more among the people of God. What a blessing it seemed to him to
+be a dweller in the land of light and liberty, where the free
+worshippers might pray<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">171</a></span> and praise without let or hinderance from
+ungodly men.</p>
+
+<p>Full of such glad thoughts, he walked towards the church so endeared to
+him by many hallowed associations. His mother was at his side, and his
+kind townsmen on every hand were giving him their cordial greeting,
+while the little children looked at him with curious wonder, as the
+brave boy whom even their fathers "delighted to honor."</p>
+
+<p>Once in the house of God, all other thoughts were hushed in the mind of
+Blair, by the remembrance of the presence into which he was now ushered.
+It was a joy to him to join in heartfelt prayer, and praise with so many
+true children of God, and to stand among his brethren who like him could
+say from the heart, "I believe in the Lord Jesus Christ."</p>
+
+<p>A deep, strong voice near him made<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">172</a></span> the young worshipper aware of the
+presence of Derry Duck in the solemn assembly, joining with his whole
+heart in the hymn of praise. Ah, men might heap honor upon the young
+patriot, and applaud his courage in the hour of danger, and welcome was
+their cordial tribute; but their loudest acclamations had not power to
+wake in the soul of Blair Robertson such deep, grateful joy as the sight
+of that ransomed sailor, brought home to the Father's house.</p>
+
+<p>Every word of the service had its meaning to Derry Duck. He confessed
+anew the sins of his burdened heart, and accepted once more the free
+forgiveness found in Christ Jesus. He called on God as his Father, and
+seemed to be professing before men and angels the faith for which he was
+willing to die.</p>
+
+<p>The clergyman gave forth the simple notice, "A person desires to return<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">173</a></span>
+thanks for a safe return from sea." All eyes were suddenly bent upon
+Blair with loving pride. Very deep and true was the thanksgiving of the
+Fairport congregation for the return of their brave deliverer; but who
+shall tell what passed in the mother's heart, or in that of her
+rejoicing son?</p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+<div style="margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em; padding-bottom: 1em">
+<a name="CHAPTER_XXI." id="CHAPTER_XXI."></a>
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">174</a></span>
+<h2>CHAPTER XXI.</h2><h3>CONCLUSION.</h3>
+</div>
+
+<p>It was in vain that Blair tried to persuade Derry Duck to see his
+mother, and accept her thanks for his kindness to her wounded boy. Derry
+declared that he would hear no thanks, the odds were all on the other
+side. And as for sitting down in a Christian woman's parlor, and making
+himself easy there, he wasn't fit for that. A forgiven sinner he
+believed he was, and could bow in the house of God with his fellow-men;
+but he was a beginner in the ways of godliness, too much tainted with
+his miserable past to be right company for those who had never gone so
+far astray. Besides, he pleaded, he had his little flower to see, in her
+own little nook. It would be a shame to him to set his foot on any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">175</a></span>
+other threshold before he had spoken to her. To her his first spare
+hours belonged.</p>
+
+<p>Derry returned from his visit to his child with his heart more than ever
+full of love to his darling. She had received his letter, and rejoiced
+over it with great joy, declaring that not a treasure she possessed was
+so precious. Derry had allowed himself but the usual short interview,
+ever trembling lest he should mar her delight in her father by some
+knowledge of the wild life he had led. Yet, when he laid his hand on her
+head at parting, he could not resist speaking the fervent "God bless
+you, darling," which stirred at his heart.</p>
+
+<p>She had clasped and kissed his hand with a sudden gladness, as if such
+words from him were both a joy and a surprise. He waited for no
+questions, but hurried away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">176</a></span></p>
+
+<p>"When the war is over, you will come home and settle down with your
+little housekeeper, and let her take care of you. How glad that will
+make her," said Blair persuasively.</p>
+
+<p>"I shall never be fit company for her," said Derry firmly; "I know it,
+my boy. True, I'm a changed man. I trust I'm forgiven for the sake of
+the Crucified. But I've a pit within that needs purging thrice over. A
+man like me is not made into a saint in a minute, though he may read his
+pardon clear. 'Following hard after,' shall be my motto; 'following on
+to know the Lord.' I'm not the one to sit down at the chimney-side with
+a creature like her. No, Blair, I tell you no. Look here, my boy. Here's
+my path of duty. I've a God to glorify, I've a country to serve. Rough
+sailors wont think of my ways as she would. If I'm like a rock in what I
+know is right, and God<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">177</a></span> will help me, I can do 'em good. I can set up
+the right banner among 'em. I can make the forecastle praise the great
+and holy name. It is for this I mean to work. It is for this I mean to
+be a sailor now. There's not a port I've ever set foot in, but I've
+shamed a Christian land there. I mean to put in to every port where I've
+showed my face, and let them see I've changed my colors. Where I've done
+evil, there I mean to try to do good. I can't wipe out bygones. They are
+written in the book <i>up there</i>. But there's One in white robes will
+stand for me before his Father's throne. I'll work for Him while there's
+life in me; and when I die, I hope it will be giving praise and glory to
+his name. I want to do my country credit too. It's no shining thing, to
+get in the papers, that I expect to do; but just a patient serving God,
+that brings honor to the land where<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">178</a></span> a man was born. You will pray for
+me, I know, when I'm off on the water; and if I die&mdash;your mother knows
+the name&mdash;she'll go to my little darling, and tell her how her father
+loved her, and hopes to live with her in the kingdom of heaven. I shall
+be fit to sit down with her at that marriage-feast. I shall have on the
+'white robes,' and poor Derry Duck will have a 'new name,' by which the
+angels will call him, and his little darling will not blush to hear it.
+I shall live with her there." Derry dashed the tears from his eyes as he
+spoke, but he firmly repeated, "Here, I must labor alone, and struggle
+to grow like the Master. <i>There</i>, none shall lay any thing to the charge
+of God's elect; and I and my pretty one will join with her mother in
+singing round the throne. Good-by, my boy. God bless you. You have sent
+out a Christian sailor to work for him on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">179</a></span> the seas. You have sent out a
+lover of his country to strive to do her honor in his closet on his
+knees, at his duty in the fight, and in his hammock when they drop him
+into the deep sea."</p>
+
+<p>Derry wrung the hand of the young patriot, and then moved away with
+quick uncertain steps. A lonely man, yet not alone, there was a comfort
+and joy in the rough sailor's heart. His life of labor was to be a glad
+voyage to a better country, whose harbor lights would be ever leading
+him onward, and whose shining shore would ever glisten for him in the
+certain future beyond the grave.</p>
+
+<p>The young patriot had indeed been blessed in winning such a devoted
+servant to the Master's cause, and such a Christian sailor to maintain
+the honor of his native land.</p>
+
+<p>There was more such work for Blair Robertson, and for it he steadily
+labored.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">180</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Peace came with its illuminations and festivities. The sword was laid
+aside on sea and land, yet Blair might still be serving the country he
+so dearly loved. His example, his fireside talk, and his glowing words
+in the assemblies of his people, might ever cast their weight in the
+right balance. The outcasts and the immigrant were still to be so
+trained and ennobled as to make them fit citizens of our free and happy
+land. Above all, by his prayers and his holy living, he might call down
+on his home and country such a blessing as ever encompasses the dwelling
+of him who feareth the Lord.</p>
+
+<p>To be such a patriot was the aim of Blair Robertson. Would that there
+were many so to live and labor. Then might we be sure of victory over
+all our enemies, and of the abounding blessings of lasting peace.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">181</a></span><br /><br /></p>
+
+<hr class="major" />
+  <h2><br />ILLUSTRATED VOLUMES</h2>
+
+  <h4>FOR</h4>
+
+  <h3>CHILDREN AND YOUTH.</h3>
+
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+
+
+<blockquote>  <h3>FLOWERS OF SPRING-TIME.</h3>
+
+  <p class='center'>A beautiful quarto, with colored frontispiece, and one
+  hundred and fifty engravings. $1 50, or $2 gilt.</p>
+
+  <h3>Songs for the Little Ones at Home.</h3>
+
+  <p class='center'>A favorite companion of the nursery. Sixty-two engravings.
+  40 cts. cloth, 50 gilt.</p>
+
+  <h3>Dr. Scudder's Tales about the Heathen.</h3>
+
+  <p class='center'>For little readers; finely illustrated. 25 cts., 35 gilt.</p>
+
+  <h3>THE ILLUSTRATED TRACT PRIMER.</h3>
+
+  <p class='center'>Containing alphabets, spelling lessons, etc., with multiplied
+  engravings. 20 cts., or 25 gilt, 10 cts. paper.</p>
+
+  <h4>LETTERS TO LITTLE CHILDREN. 15 cts., or 20 gilt.</h4>
+
+  <h4>GREAT TRUTHS IN SIMPLE WORDS FOR LITTLE
+  CHILDREN. 15 cts., or 20 gilt.</h4>
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+
+  <p class='center'>FOR SALE AT 150 NASSAU-STREET, NEW YORK;<br />40
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+
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+  the great outlines of his life, teachings, and labors, in a
+  manner adapted to the young. 30 cts. cloth, 40 gilt.</p>
+
+  <h3>SKETCHES FROM THE HISTORY OF JERICHO.</h3>
+
+  <p class='center'>In illustration of the power of faith. By an accomplished
+  lady. Cloth gilt 30 cts., paper gilt 20 cts.</p>
+
+  <h3>Strangers in Greenland.</h3>
+
+  <p class='center'>Depicting the adventures of Dr. Kane, and the greater
+  courage and patience of the first Danish missionary, and
+  his heroic wife Ann Egede. By a favorite authoress. Cloth
+  gilt 25 cts., paper gilt 15 cts.</p>
+
+  <h3>BETHLEHEM AND HER CHILDREN.</h3>
+
+  <p class='center'>Containing the Grave at Bethlehem, the Bride, the King,
+  and the Babe of Bethlehem. With colored frontispiece. 30
+  cts. cloth gilt; paper gilt 20 cts.</p>
+
+  <h3>THE MORNING STAR,</h3>
+
+  <p class='center'>Or, Stories about the Childhood of Jesus.
+  Colored frontispiece. 30 cts. cloth gilt; paper gilt 20 cts.</p>
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+
+  <p class='center'>Colored frontispiece, and other engravings. 30 cts. cloth
+  gilt; paper gilt 20 cts.</p>
+
+  <h3>"THAT SWEET STORY OF OLD;"</h3>
+  <p class='center'>Or, the History of Jesus.</p>
+
+  <p class='center'>Colored frontispiece. 25 cts. cloth gilt; 15 cts. paper gilt.</p>
+
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+
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+
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+
+  AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY,</p>
+
+  <p class='center'>And for sale at its Depositories, 150 Nassau-st., New York;
+  40 Cornhill, Boston; 929 Chestnut-st., Philadelphia; Baltimore,
+  Rochester, and Cincinnati.</p></blockquote>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="pg" />
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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Boy Patriot, by Edward Sylvester Ellis
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Boy Patriot
+
+
+Author: Edward Sylvester Ellis
+
+
+
+Release Date: April 17, 2007  [eBook #21125]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOY PATRIOT***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Taavi Kalju, Janet Blenkinship, and the Project
+Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) from
+digital material generously made available by Internet Archive/American
+Libraries (http://www.archive.org/details/americana)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 21125-h.htm or 21125-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/1/1/2/21125/21125-h/21125-h.htm)
+      or
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+
+
+      Images of the original pages are available through
+      Internet Archive/American Libraries. See
+      http://www.archive.org/details/boypatriot00elliiala
+
+
+
+
+
+THE BOY PATRIOT.
+
+by
+
+EDWARD SYLVESTER ELLIS,
+
+The Author of
+"The Blue Flag," "Cheerily, Cheerily," Etc.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+"HE WILL BLESS THEM THAT FEAR THE LORD, BOTH SMALL AND
+GREAT."
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+Published by the
+American Tract Society,
+150 Nassau-Street, New York.
+
+The character of Blair Robertson, the Fairport boy, will not have been
+sketched in vain, if it prompt one young American to such a hearty
+serving of God as will make him a blessing to our dear native land. We
+have laid the scene of our story fifty years ago, but we trust that its
+lessons will be none the less appropriate to the present day.
+
+
+
+Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1863, by the
+AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, in the Clerk's Office of the District
+Court of the Southern District of the State of New York.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+  CHAPTER I.
+
+  Fairport                                                             5
+
+  CHAPTER II.
+
+  The young Orator                                                     9
+
+  CHAPTER III.
+
+  The English Boy                                                     25
+
+  CHAPTER IV.
+
+  The Patriot's Work                                                  36
+
+  CHAPTER V.
+
+  Blair's Company                                                     44
+
+  CHAPTER VI.
+
+  A Pilot                                                             65
+
+  CHAPTER VII.
+
+  No!                                                                 62
+
+  CHAPTER VIII.
+
+  The Storm                                                           69
+
+  CHAPTER IX
+
+  A Reward                                                            74
+
+  CHAPTER X.
+
+  A New Deck                                                          80
+
+  CHAPTER XI.
+
+  "Mum"                                                               86
+
+  CHAPTER XII.
+
+  The First Effort                                                    95
+
+  CHAPTER XIII.
+
+  Temptation                                                         105
+
+  CHAPTER XIV.
+
+  "Derry Duck"                                                       113
+
+  CHAPTER XV.
+
+  A Letter                                                           128
+
+  CHAPTER XVI.
+
+  A Marvel                                                           134
+
+  CHAPTER XVII.
+
+  The Conflict                                                       144
+
+  CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+  Wages                                                              152
+
+  CHAPTER XIX.
+
+  Home                                                               160
+
+  CHAPTER XX.
+
+  Sacred Joy                                                         170
+
+  CHAPTER XXI.
+
+  Conclusion                                                         174
+
+
+
+
+THE BOY PATRIOT.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I.
+
+FAIRPORT.
+
+
+Were you ever on the coast of Maine? If so, you know how the rocky
+shores stretch out now and then clear into the ocean, and fret the salt
+waves till they are all in a foam. Old Ocean is not to be so set at
+defiance and have his rightful territory wrung from him, without taking
+his revenge after his own fashion. Far up into the land he sends his
+arms, and crooks and bends and makes his way amid the rocks, and finally
+falls asleep in some quiet harbor, where the tall pines stand by the
+shore to sing him a lullaby.
+
+In just such a spot as this the town we shall call Fairport was built.
+Axe in one hand and Bible in the other, stern settlers here found a
+home. Strong hard-featured sons, and fair rosy-cheeked daughters made
+glad the rude cabins that were soon scattered along the shore. The axe
+was plied in the woods, and the needle by the fireside, and yet grim
+Poverty was ever shaking her fist in the very faces of the settlers, and
+whispering sad things of what the uncertain future might have in store
+for them.
+
+Cheerily they bore the hardships of the present hour, and a deaf ear
+they turned to all such whispers. Yet those settlers were sensible,
+matter-of-fact men; and it was soon plain to them, that healthful as
+were the breezes that made so rosy the cheeks of their daughters,
+Fairport was not the very best site in the world for a settlement, at
+least if its people were to depend on the thin and rocky soil won from
+the forest, which scarcely produced the bare necessaries of life.
+
+Was Fairport given up in despair? No, no. Her settlers were not the men
+to be so daunted and foiled. If the land was unkindly, they could take
+to the water; and so they did, to a man. Some were off to the
+Newfoundland Banks, tossing about the codfish, and piling them up into
+stacks that were more profitable than any hay of their own raising. Some
+were on board swift vessels, doing a good share of the carrying trade
+between the West Indies and the New England cities. Some were seeking
+the whale far in the northern seas; while others, less enterprising,
+were content to fish nearer home for all sorts of eatable dwellers in
+the sea, from halibut to herring.
+
+Now a new day had begun for Fairport. The original cabins began to
+tower in the air or encroach on the submissive gardens, as building
+after building was added by the prosperous owners. Miniature villas,
+with a wealth of useless piazzas, appeared in the neighborhood of the
+town, and substantial wharves bordered one side of the quiet harbor, and
+gave a welcome to the shipping that seemed to grow and cluster there
+like the trees of a forest.
+
+Fairport had passed the struggles of its early youth when our story
+begins, though there were gray-haired citizens yet within its borders
+who could tell how the bears had once looked in at their cabin windows,
+and the pine-trees had stood thick in what was now the main street of
+the rising town.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II.
+
+THE YOUNG ORATOR.
+
+
+The boys of Fairport were an amphibious set, who could live on land
+truly, but were happiest when in or near the water. To fish and swim,
+row, trim the sail, and guide the rudder, were accomplishments they all
+could boast. A bold, hardy, merry set they were; and but for the
+schoolmaster's rod and the teaching of their pious mothers, might have
+been as ignorant as oysters and merciless as the sharks. Master Penrose
+had whipped into most of them the elements of a plain English education,
+and gentle mothers had power to soften and rule these rough boys, when
+perhaps a stronger hand would have failed.
+
+Master Penrose always gave a full holiday on Saturday. Then the wharves
+were sure to swarm with the mischievous little chaps, all eager to carry
+out some favorite plan for amusement, in which old Ocean was sure to be
+engaged as a play-fellow. Poor indeed was the lad who had not a
+fish-hook and line with which to try his skill. The very youngest had
+his tiny boat to be launched, while his elders were planning
+sailing-parties, or jumping and leaping in the water like so many
+dolphins.
+
+Boys like to have a leader, some one they look up to as superior to the
+rest, and capable of deciding knotty questions, and "going ahead" in all
+times of doubt and difficulty. Blair Robertson occupied this position
+among the youngsters of Fairport. He had lawfully won this place among
+his fellows and "achieved greatness," by being the best scholar at the
+academy, as well as the boldest swimmer, most skilful fisherman, and
+most experienced sailor among all the boys for miles along the coast. It
+was Blair Robertson's boast that he belonged to the nineteenth century,
+and grew old with it. It was doubtful whether the bold lad considered
+this age of progress as honored by his playing his part in its drama, or
+whether he claimed a reflected glory, as having been born at the very
+dawn of that century which promised so much for the thronging millions
+of our world.
+
+Be that as it may, Joe Robertson the pilot and Margaret his wife
+rejoiced, in the year 1800, over their first and only child. Thirteen
+years had swept by, and the honest couple were now as proud of that
+brave, strong boy as they had been of their baby, and with better
+reason.
+
+Troublous times had come upon their native land. War had been declared
+with England. All Fairport was ablaze at the idea of American seamen
+being forced to serve on English ships, and of decks whose timber grew
+in the free forests of Maine or North Carolina, being trodden by the
+unscrupulous feet of British officers with insolent search-warrants in
+their hands.
+
+Blair Robertson had his own views on these subjects--views which we find
+him giving forth to his devoted followers one sunny Saturday afternoon.
+
+Blair was mounted on a sugar hogshead which stood in front of one of the
+warehouses on the wharf. From this place of eminence he looked down on a
+constantly increasing crowd of youthful listeners. A half hour before, a
+row of little legs had been hanging over the side of the wharf, while
+their owners were intent upon certain corks and lines that danced or
+quivered amid the waves below. Now the lines were made fast to stone and
+log, while the small fishermen stood agape to listen to the fluent
+orator.
+
+This was but the nucleus of the gathering crowd. Every boy who came near
+the eager circle must of course stop to find out what was going on; and
+it was with no little pride that Blair beheld the dozens of faces soon
+upturned to his.
+
+Blair might have remembered that if there had been but a dead dog in the
+centre of the group, there would have been an equal gathering and
+pushing to know the cause of the meeting; but he, like many an older
+speaker, was willing to attribute to his eloquence what might have had
+even a humbler cause.
+
+"Our rights invaded; a man's ship no longer his castle; the free
+American forced to forsake his stars and stripes! The foot of the
+Briton pollutes our decks. His tyrannical arm takes captive our fathers,
+and dooms them to a servitude of which the world knows no equal. Shall
+we submit? We will not submit. We have protested. We have declared war
+to the death. Has Fairport a voice in this matter? Where are those whom
+we love best? Where but upon the wide sea, a prey to our remorseless
+enemy. Where is _your_ father, and _yours_, and _yours_, and _mine_?"
+said Blair, making his appeal personal as he pointed to the sailors'
+sons. "This insolence must be checked. We must rebuke the proud Briton
+on the very scene of his abominations. We must triumph over him on the
+tossing ocean, and teach him that America, not Britannia, rules the
+waves. Would that we all stood on some staunch ship, to do battle with
+our young right-arms. Then should Englishmen cringe before us; then
+would we doom to sudden destruction their boasted admirals and flimsy
+fleets. Down with the English! down with the English!"
+
+Blair stamped emphatically on his hollow throne, until it rang again.
+
+"Down with the English!" echoed the crowd in a burst of enthusiasm.
+
+At this moment a short, stout lad came round a neighboring corner. On
+his arm he carried a large basket of clean linen, with which he now
+tried to elbow his way through the crowd.
+
+"An English boy! Shame that he should show his face among us," said
+Blair in his excitement.
+
+"We'll give him a taste of salt water," said two or three of the oldest
+boys as they seized the stranger roughly by the shoulders. "We'll teach
+him to mend his manners."
+
+"Stop, stop, boys. Give him fair play," shouted Blair; but Blair was no
+longer the object of attention.
+
+The English boy, in spite of his struggles, was hurried to the edge of
+the wharf, and pushed relentlessly over the brink.
+
+A thorough ducking to him, and the scattering of his precious basket of
+clothes, was all that the young rascals intended. To their horror, the
+stranger sank like a heavy load--rose, and then sank again.
+
+"He can't swim; he can't swim. He'll be drowned!" burst from the lips of
+the spectators. All were paralyzed with fear.
+
+Blair had forced his way through the crowd, and reached the edge of the
+wharf in time to see the pale, agonized face of the English boy, as he
+for the second time rose to the surface. In another moment Blair was
+diving where, far in the deep water, the pale face had vanished from
+sight.
+
+There was a moment of breathless silence, then a deafening cheer, as
+Blair reappeared with the drowning boy in his arms.
+
+There were hands enough outstretched to aid him in laying his burden on
+the shore. "Help me carry him, boys, straight to our house. Mother will
+know what to do for him," said Blair, speaking very quickly.
+
+It was but a few steps down a neighboring street to Joe Robertson's
+pleasant home.
+
+Blair did not fear to take in the dripping boy and lay him on his
+mother's best bed. He knew that mother's joy was to minister to the
+distressed and succor the unfortunate.
+
+The water was soon pouring from the mouth, nose, and ears of the
+unconscious lad. Then he was rubbed and wrapped round with hot
+flannels, while Mrs. Robertson's own hands forced his lungs to work,
+until they again took their natural movement.
+
+Not a word was asked as to how the accident had happened, until, out of
+danger, the rescued boy was in a sweet sleep.
+
+The eager crowd who had followed Blair and his charge had vanished, and
+the mother sat alone with her son. Blair's dripping garments had been
+exchanged for another suit, but in the midst of the late confusion his
+mother's eye had silently and gratefully marked upon him the signs that
+to him the English boy owed his life.
+
+"You saved him, my son. God be thanked. I may well be proud of my boy,"
+said the mother earnestly and fondly.
+
+A sudden flush of shame crimsoned the cheeks of Blair Robertson. "Oh,
+mother, it was all my fault," he exclaimed. "If he had died--Oh, if he
+had died, that pale struggling face would have haunted me to my grave. I
+had been making one of my speeches to the boys, and it pleased me to see
+how I could rouse them. I had just shouted 'Down with the English!' and
+made them join me, when poor Hal came round the corner. Nobody would
+have noticed him if I had gone right on; but I pointed him out, and
+angry as they were, I could not stop them before they had thrown him
+into the water. They thought he could swim, I dare say; but I knew he
+couldn't. Oh, mother, what I suffered, thinking he might drown before I
+could reach him. But he's safe now. You think he'll get well, don't you,
+mother?"
+
+"Yes, my child," said Mrs. Robertson, trembling with deep feeling.
+"God's mercy has been great to you, my boy. May you learn this day a
+solemn lesson. You have a powerful influence over your companions. You
+know it, and I am afraid it has only fed your pride, not prompted you to
+usefulness. Is it real love for your country that leads you to these
+speeches; or is it a desire to see how you can rouse the passions of
+your listeners, and force them to do your bidding? For every talent we
+must give an account, and surely for none more strictly than the power
+to prompt men to good or evil. I believe you love your country, my boy.
+You love our dear country, or I would blush to own you as my son. But I
+fear you have as yet but a poor idea what it is to be a true patriot."
+
+"A true patriot, mother? I think I know what that means. One who loves
+his country, and would cheerfully die for her," said Blair with
+enthusiasm.
+
+"You might even love your country and die for her, and yet be no _true_
+patriot," said the mother. "You might be her disgrace, and the cause of
+her afflictions, while you shed for her your heart's blood."
+
+"I don't understand you," said the boy thoughtfully.
+
+"Perhaps Korah and his company thought themselves patriots when they
+rebelled against the power of Moses and Aaron. They doubtless moved the
+people by cunning speeches about their own short-lived honor; yet they
+brought destruction on themselves and a plague upon Israel. There is
+nothing more plain in the Bible than God's great regard to the
+righteousness or wickedness of _individual_ men. Suppose that there had
+been found ten righteous men in Sodom, for whose sake that wicked city
+would have been spared its awful doom. Humble and obscure they might
+have been; but would not they, who brought such a blessing down on the
+neighborhood where they dwelt, be worthy of the name of patriots? My
+son, if you were willing to lay down your life for your country, and yet
+were guilty of the foul sin of swearing, and taught all around you to
+blaspheme, would you not be laying up wrath against your native land,
+though you fought with the bravery of an Alexander? These are times to
+think on these things, my boy, if we really love our country. No man
+liveth unto himself. His home, his state, his country is in a degree
+blessed or cursed for his sake. Dear Blair, you cannot be a true patriot
+without God's grace to help you rule your heart, guard your lips, and
+purify your life. May you this day begin, for your own sake as well as
+for that of your country, to serve the God of our fathers. He has
+mercifully spared you the bitter self-reproach to which you might have
+been doomed. Go in repentance to his footstool, and he will abundantly
+pardon. Resolve henceforward to walk humbly before him, trusting in his
+grace and striving to do his will, and you shall count this day the most
+blessed of your life."
+
+Mrs. Robertson put her arm round the tall, strong boy at her side. He
+yielded to her touch, as if he had been a little child. Side by side
+they knelt, while the mother poured out such a prayer as can only flow
+from the lips of a Christian mother pleading for her only son.
+
+Blair Robertson spent that long Saturday evening alone in his room. That
+was indeed to be the beginning of days to him. He was no longer to be a
+self-willed seeker of his own pleasure and honor. He was "bought with a
+price," and was henceforward to be a servant of the King of kings.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III.
+
+THE ENGLISH BOY.
+
+
+No loving friends came to inquire after the fate of Hal Hutchings, the
+English boy. His efforts to save his basket of clean linen had been as
+vain as his struggles to free himself from the hands of his persecutors.
+The garments that had been starched and ironed with such scrupulous care
+were scattered along the wharf, and trampled under the feet of the
+thoughtless young mob. The old washerwoman on whose errand Hal had been
+sent forth, was too indignant at the destruction which had befallen her
+handiwork, to give one kindly thought to the poor boy who had so
+honorably striven to spare her the misfortune over which she lamented so
+dolorously. Her Sunday thoughts strayed far more frequently to the
+dingy, stained garments soaking in her back kitchen, than to Hal
+Hutchings, quietly lying in Mrs. Robertson's best bedroom.
+
+"I wonder no one comes to inquire after him. Has he no friends, Blair?"
+said Mrs. Robertson as evening was drawing on.
+
+"I dare say not, mother. I never saw him with anybody. He does errands
+round town, and has been sleeping at Mrs. McKinstry's, the
+washerwoman's. He didn't take his meals there, I know, for I've seen him
+eating bread and cheese in some corner just when other folks were
+sitting down to dinner. They call him 'Hal the English boy;' but I guess
+nobody knows much about him."
+
+"A stranger in a strange land," said Mrs. Robertson thoughtfully; and
+then she rose up and went into the room where Hal was still lying.
+
+Blair took up his Bible. How precious that Bible seemed to him now--the
+light for his feet, the lamp for his path. With reverence he turned the
+sacred pages until he found the fifty-first psalm, which he read with
+solemn earnestness, making its humble petitions truly his own.
+
+While Blair was thus employed, Mrs. Robertson was talking in her own
+kindly way to the stranger.
+
+"So you are an English boy, Hal," she said. "That will not keep me from
+loving you, for you know the Bible says we must 'love our enemies;' but
+I don't believe you are such a very dangerous enemy, after all." Her
+pleasant smile was like sunshine to the heart of the lonely boy, and his
+reserve melted away before it.
+
+"I'm Hinglish, because I was born in Hingland," said the boy. "I
+couldn't help that; and I couldn't blame my father and mother for it
+neither, for I never knowed them. I've been an orphan always. But I'm an
+American, because I chose this for my country, and I worked my passage
+over here, and I haven't begged from anybody."
+
+"I'm glad you want to be an American," said Mrs. Robertson gently; "it
+is a great privilege. But there is something more to do for every boy
+who wants to be an American citizen, than just landing in this country
+and earning his own living, and then by and by voting for our rulers."
+
+Hal opened his large pale blue eyes in confused expectation, and was
+silent.
+
+Mrs. Robertson was not easily discouraged, and she went on. "You would
+think it very rude, Hal, if I were to invite a poor stranger to my house
+to dinner, and he should jump and laugh while I was asking God's
+blessing before eating; and then toss the plates about, breaking my
+dishes and scattering the food over my clean floor. You would think the
+least he could do would be to be civil, and keep the rules of my house
+while he was in it."
+
+"Such a chap as that ought to have the door showed him right straight,"
+said Hal warmly.
+
+"Well, my boy, this is what I mean: When we welcome strangers to our
+free country, which our fathers fought for and gave their blood to win,
+we expect those strangers to fall in with our ways, and not disturb the
+peace and order of the pleasant home they have come to. Is not that
+right?"
+
+"Yes, ma'am; and I haven't disturbed anybody's peace nor order," said
+Hal with another blank look of the blue eyes.
+
+"No, and I do not believe you ever will; but I have not done yet. A
+free people, to be a safe people, must be a Christian people. Are you a
+Christian boy, Hal?" The question was asked with deep seriousness.
+
+"I a'n't a heathen," said Hal in surprise.
+
+"No, you don't bow down to a wooden idol, or worship snakes and bulls,
+as some heathen people do. But are you trying to serve God in all you
+think and do and say? Have you asked him to forgive you all your sins,
+for the sake of his dear Son; and do you believe he has forgiven you,
+and taken you to be his own dear child?"
+
+"I never had anybody talk to me so before," said Hal with a confused
+look; "but I take it, I a'n't what you call a Christian."
+
+"I dare say you do not understand me very well," said Mrs. Robertson.
+"God can make these things plain to you. Close your eyes, and I will
+kneel down here and ask him to teach you to know and love his holy
+will."
+
+Hal had been at church many times in his life, and looked curiously on
+at the whole proceeding, as at a "show." Now for the first time he heard
+prayer made for him, for poor Hal Hutchings, to the great God of heaven.
+He gathered but little of the burden of the prayer; yet his first remark
+after Mrs. Robertson resumed her seat beside him was a proof that he
+appreciated the sincerity of her interest in him.
+
+"You are very kind, ma'am," he said. "I'd like to be such an American as
+you. I take it you are the best sort, not like them boys on the wharf."
+
+"Those boys are very sorry for their mischief by this time," said Mrs.
+Robertson. "My own son would gladly do any thing for you. He says he
+never shall forget what he suffered when he thought you might be drowned
+in consequence of his folly. But I think he has learned a lesson he will
+never forget. He has seen how far wrong he might go if he followed his
+own foolish ways. I trust he will hereafter be a faithful, humble child
+of God."
+
+"He pulled me out of the water," said Hal warmly. "He's true grit. I'd
+go to the death for him."
+
+"He will be very glad to have you for a faithful friend," said Mrs.
+Robertson; "but look, you must not teach him any thing bad, or tempt him
+to do wrong. He is my only child, and my dearest wish is to see him a
+noble, pure, Christian man."
+
+"I wont teach him any 'arm as I knows to be 'arm," said Hal, putting out
+his hand to ratify the bargain.
+
+It was a rough, hard hand, but Mrs. Robertson took it kindly as she
+answered, "God help you to keep your promise, Hal;" and so their
+interview closed.
+
+When Monday morning came, Hal Hutchings was up and dressed almost as
+early as Mrs. Robertson herself. Into the kitchen he walked, hearing the
+good lady's voice in that direction. "I'm going now," he said, "and I
+just looked in to bid you good-by."
+
+"Stop and take breakfast with us, wont you, Hal? You shall not go away
+hungry."
+
+Some crisp cakes of codfish and potatoes were getting the last coat of
+brown in a frying-pan over the fire, and a huge loaf of Boston "brown
+bread" was on the table near at hand.
+
+"I wouldn't mind a slice of that bread and one of them cakes, if you
+would let me sit down here and eat 'em," said Hal.
+
+Mrs. Robertson understood the boy's unwillingness to take a meal with
+strangers who had been raised in habits of greater refinement than his
+own. She kindly made a place for him where he was, and he soon rendered
+it evident that bashfulness had not taken away his appetite. "I don't
+want you to leave us," said Mrs. Robertson. "I should like to have you
+stay here until we can find something for you to do. I want to teach you
+to be a good Christian boy, the right kind of an American."
+
+"I don't want to be beholden to anybody," said Hal with decision. "I
+worked my way over, and I haven't begged a penny since I came. I don't
+mean to, unless I'm starving. Mrs. McKinstry has let me her little room.
+I've paid for it for this month, and I don't mean to lose my money. But
+I like your teaching, ma'am. It takes hold of me different from any
+thing I ever heard before."
+
+"Come in on Sunday evenings then, Hal. I am always at home then, and I
+should love dearly to teach you, and help you to be a good boy. Will you
+come?" said Mrs. Robertson.
+
+"I will, ma'am, I will," said Hal; and making a rude attempt at a bow,
+he took his leave.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV.
+
+THE PATRIOT'S WORK.
+
+
+Mrs. Robertson and her son were sitting at their pleasant
+breakfast-table together.
+
+"Blair," said the mother, "you want to be a patriot. Here is some work
+for you to do for your country. We must try to make a good American
+citizen out of Hal, and a good Christian at the same time. The poor
+fellow is deeply grateful to you, and you will have a powerful influence
+over him."
+
+"I can't bear the English," said Blair warmly. "I don't like any
+foreigners, for that matter. It don't seem to me they are the right
+stuff to make American citizens out of. Give me the native-born Yankee,
+free and independent from his cradle upwards. That's my way of
+thinking."
+
+Blair stood up as he spoke, and waved his knife in a manner more
+emphatic than elegant. A speech, one of his favorite speeches, seemed
+imminent. Blair did love to hear himself talk.
+
+"My son, our question in life is not what we _like_, but what is _duty_.
+I think the laws of the kingdom of heaven should be the guide to every
+lover of his country. The voice of our Saviour is, '_Come_ unto me, all
+ye that labor and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.' 'The
+Spirit and the bride say, _Come_; and let him that heareth say, _Come._'
+Every true Christian echoes the saying of St. Paul, 'I would to God that
+not only thou, but also all that hear me this day, were both almost and
+altogether such as I am, except these bonds.' So it should be with every
+favored citizen of our happy land. We should welcome the oppressed of
+every clime, and strive to make them worthy partakers of the blessings
+we enjoy. I do not like to hear you say you hate any nation. We are all
+of one blood, made in God's image."
+
+"Dear mother," said Blair, "you are right; you are always right. How
+thankful I ought to be to have such a guide, and such a help in keeping
+my new resolutions. I want to do my duty even when it is hard for me.
+You shall see what a friend I will be to Hal. I mean to go out as soon
+as I have done breakfast, and see if I can look him up some steady work.
+I heard Old Jock say on Saturday he wanted a strong boy to help him
+handle his nets. I'll try to get the place for Hal."
+
+Blair was as prompt to act as to plan. A half hour after breakfast was
+over he was standing by the cottage of an old fisherman and knocking
+for admittance.
+
+It took all Blair's powers of persuasion to induce Jock to have any
+thing to do with what he called a "furriner." The case seemed well-nigh
+lost, when Blair mounted on a chair, and made a small speech in his best
+style for the benefit of his single auditor. Whether won over by its
+logic or through a sense of the honor thus conferred upon him, Jock
+agreed to Blair's proposition.
+
+"The first speech I ever made to any purpose," thought Blair, as he
+walked rapidly along the shore, wending his way to Mrs. McKinstry's
+dwelling.
+
+Hal had locked himself into his "castle," as the only way in which he
+could escape the merciless scolding of his voluble hostess. She seemed
+to consider every stain on the injured garments a blot on the shield of
+the English boy which no apologies could excuse or efface. Hal fairly
+fled before the enemy; and once safe in his own room, whistled so
+lustily as to drown all sound of the railing from without.
+
+It was an unusually busy day with Mrs. McKinstry, or it is doubtful
+whether she would have allowed even this close to the skirmish, for she
+had a taste for such encounters. Blair however heard the dripping and
+swashing of water in the rear of the house as he went up the narrow
+stairway. The wide cap-border of Mrs. McKinstry was fanning backwards
+and forwards, as she bent with a regular motion over the tub in which
+her red arms were immersed. She gave one look at Blair as he went up to
+her lodger's room, but did not condescend even to exchange watchwords
+with him.
+
+In answer to Blair's knock was returned a resolute "Who's there?"
+
+The reply set Hal's mind at ease, and the visitor was promptly admitted.
+Blair stated his business at once, but to his surprise he met with a
+blank refusal from Hal. He would not fall in with such a plan, not he.
+He would keep out of the water while there was any land left to stand
+on. He had had enough of plumping to the bottom, and coming up, ears
+singing, throat choking, and soul almost scared out of him. Better a
+crumb of bread and a morsel of cheese, than fatness and plenty earned in
+such a way.
+
+It was hard for Blair to understand the nervous fear of drowning which
+had taken possession of poor Hal. Fairport boys could swim almost as
+soon as they could walk. They knew nothing of the helpless feeling of
+one who has the great deep under him, and is powerless to struggle in
+its waves.
+
+But a few short days before, Blair would have pronounced Hal a coward,
+and left him in disdain. Now he stood silent for a moment, baffled and
+puzzled. "I'll teach you to swim, Hal," he said at length. "We'll try in
+shallow water first, where you couldn't drown, unless you wish to drown
+yourself. It is easy--just as easy as any thing, if you only know how.
+I'll come for you after school this evening, and we'll go up the creek,
+where the boys wont be about. I shouldn't wonder if you were to take to
+it like a fish."
+
+The English boy looked into Blair's frank pleasant face, and the dogged
+expression passed from his own. He took Blair's hand as he said, "I'll
+try. You shall see what you can make out of me."
+
+Before many weeks were over, Hal Hutchings was as good a swimmer as half
+the boys in Fairport. Old Jock no longer waded into the deep water to
+set his nets or push his boat ashore. He declared that Hal had scared
+the rheumatism out of his bones, and it was not likely to make bold to
+come back, if things went on as they seemed to promise.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V.
+
+BLAIR'S COMPANY.
+
+
+Blair Robertson had long had a famous military company of his own,
+called the Fairport Guard. A guard _against what_ had never been
+publicly stated; and as they had no written constitution for their
+association, posterity must ever remain in ignorance on this point. Up
+and down the streets of Fairport it was their delight to parade on a
+Saturday afternoon, to the infinite amusement of the small girls who ate
+molasses candy and looked at the imposing array.
+
+The breaking out of the war infused a new military spirit into all the
+youngsters on the Atlantic coast, and the Fairport Guard came in for
+their share of this growing enthusiasm. Cocks' tail feathers and
+broomsticks were suddenly in great requisition for the increasing rank
+and file, and the officers bore themselves with added dignity, and gave
+out their orders with an earnestness which proved that they appreciated
+the work they were imitating.
+
+When it was rumored that Blair Robertson had become a communicant in the
+church to which his mother belonged, there was a general groan among his
+old followers and adherents. Here was an end, in their minds, to the
+Fairport Guard, and every other species of fun in which Blair had been
+so long a leader and abettor.
+
+Blair was at first inclined to shrink from his old companions; but as
+the right spirit grew and strengthened within him, he mingled among them
+more freely, actuated by the desire to win new citizens for the kingdom
+of heaven, and to guide his wild associates into such paths as would
+make them a blessing to their native land.
+
+Blair's heart had been like rich ground, in which his mother had been
+sowing, sowing, sowing good seed, prayerfully waiting until it should
+spring up and take root to his own salvation and the glory of God. That
+happy time had come. All the words of counsel, all the pure teaching
+that had been stored in his mind, seemed now warmed into life, and ever
+rising up to prompt him to good and guard him from evil. Happy are the
+boys who have such a mother.
+
+A series of rainy Saturdays had postponed the question as to whether the
+Fairport Guard should parade as usual under the command of their long
+honored captain. A bright sunny holiday came at last, and Blair's
+decision on this point must now be declared. Long and prayerfully the
+boy had considered the subject, and his conclusion was fixed and
+unalterable.
+
+The change in Blair's principles and feelings had not alienated him from
+his former companions. Each one of them had now for him a new value.
+They were to him wandering children of his heavenly Father, whom he
+longed to bring back to that Father's house. The wildest and most erring
+among them called forth his most tender interest, as farthest from the
+kingdom of heaven and in the most danger of utter destruction.
+
+Blair's love of his country too had been but deepened and increased by
+his late realization of the allegiance he himself owed to the King of
+kings. His native land was now to him a dear portion of the great
+vineyard on which he desired the especial blessing of God. He more
+deeply appreciated the fact that every true Christian man is indeed an
+element of wholesome life and prosperity to the neighborhood and land in
+which he dwells. The boys of the present day were soon to be the men on
+whom the state must rely for power and permanency. With a true patriot's
+zeal, Blair resolved to do all in his power to bring the boys of
+Fairport to be such Christian men as would be a blessing in their day
+and generation. These thoughts had gone far to fix his decision with
+reference to the Fairport Guard.
+
+It was with a burst of enthusiastic applause that the little company saw
+Blair appear upon the public square in his well-known uniform. His
+three-cornered hat of black pasteboard was surmounted by a long black
+feather, and fastened under his chin by a fine leather strap, the strap
+being bordered by a ferocious pair of whiskers, to afford which the
+"black sheep" of some neighboring flock had evidently suffered. His
+grandfather's coat, which had been worn at Bunker Hill, enveloped his
+slender form, and increased the imposing effect of his tall figure upon
+the minds of his subordinates.
+
+"Three cheers for Captain Robertson! Three cheers for Blair!" shouted
+the boys as their leader approached.
+
+The cheers rung out on the air somewhat feebly, though that was owing to
+the weakness of the throats that raised them, rather than to any want of
+goodwill, and so Blair understood it.
+
+"Now give us a speech before we fall into rank," called out one of the
+company.
+
+"That is just what I mean to do, if you will all listen to me," said the
+captain in his most dignified manner.
+
+The stump of a fallen tree served to elevate our speaker on this
+occasion, as it has many an older orator in circumstances no more
+interesting to his hearers than were the present to the eager group of
+listeners.
+
+Blair had another purpose now than to hear himself talk. The short pause
+which preceded his opening sentence was not merely for effect. In those
+few seconds Blair was asking aid from his heavenly Father so to speak
+that he might have power to move his hearers and guide them aright.
+
+"Boys," he began, "boys, I want to be your captain. I don't want to give
+up the Fairport Guard. We have had many a good time together, and I love
+you all; yes, every one. Our marching and drilling has hitherto been
+play, but now we ought to be in earnest. We should prepare to be really
+a guard to our native town. At any moment the British may land on our
+shores, and threaten the lives of those who are dearest to us. We must
+be able to protect our mothers and sisters if the evil day comes. We
+must learn the use of firearms. This musket did duty at Bunker Hill.
+Every young patriot here must learn to use it well. In due time we must
+each have our musket, and make it carry true, if need be, to the heart
+of the enemy. But, boys, if we are to be real defenders of our native
+land, we must be worthy of such an honor. I am willing, I want to be
+your captain; but hear the rules I propose for our company: We are to be
+a temperance band; no drop of the cup that intoxicates must pass our
+lips. No profane word must sully our tongues. The name of the God of our
+fathers must be honored among us. Any member of this company who shall
+be found guilty of a lie, a theft, or bullying the weak and
+defenceless, shall be cast out by common vote. We will strive to be a
+credit to our beloved home--true American citizens, who may dare to ask
+God to bless them in all their undertakings and prosper all they do.
+Boys, do you agree to these regulations? If so, I shall rejoice to be
+your captain. If not, I must sadly bid adieu to the Fairport Guard, and
+with this time-honored musket in my hand, stand alone on the threshold
+of my home in the hour of danger, trusting in God and in the strength of
+this single right-arm."
+
+As Blair concluded, he grounded his musket, and stood silently awaiting
+the reply of his companions.
+
+There was a moment of hesitation; then one of the older boys, the
+first-lieutenant, stepped forward and silently placed himself at the
+side of his young commander. In true martial style the whole company
+followed, arraying themselves around their leader.
+
+"We agree! We agree! We agree to every thing!" shouted one and all.
+
+"May God help us to keep to our compact," said Blair. Then, after a
+short pause, he added, "Let me propose to you a new member for our
+company--my friend Hal Hutchings, who, born on English soil, is yet a
+true American at heart. Let all in favor of his admission say Aye."
+
+Hal had been striving to give himself a military air by appearing in his
+red flannel shirt and trousers, while Old Jock's red night-cap was
+perched above the yellow curls of the boy. As his name was mentioned, he
+raised to his shoulder a borrowed crutch which served him for a musket,
+as if to signify his readiness for martial duty.
+
+"The English boy! Admit the English boy!" said several voices; but a
+hearty "Aye, aye" from two or three prominent members of the company
+decided the question in Hal's favor, and he was admitted at once by
+general consent.
+
+Forming now in regular ranks, the Fairport Guard went through their
+usual drill, and then set off in a creditable march, to let the citizens
+have a view of their doughty defenders.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI.
+
+A PILOT.
+
+
+It is strange that the moon generally has all the blame for fickleness,
+when the sun quite as often hides his face without sufficient warning.
+The Fairport Guard had hardly made the circuit of the town, before the
+late smiling sky was overcast by dark hurrying clouds, and the
+weatherwise began to predict a coming storm, which was to be "no joke on
+sea or land."
+
+Luckless members of the Fairport Guard who had not had the precaution to
+tie on their head-gear, might be seen breaking rank and running
+indecorously in various directions in pursuit of hat or cap, while the
+skirts of the captain's time-honored coat flapped in the wind, like the
+signal of a ship in distress.
+
+It was in the endeavor to complete their usual tour, by passing along
+the wharf, that this military body was subjected to this attack from old
+Boreas. Worse confusion, however, soon broke up all order among them. A
+group of men on the wharf had been for some time looking at a ship
+nearing the harbor. They could not make her out, they said. She was a
+stranger in those waters, and yet bore the American flag. She seemed a
+man-of-war, and was evidently signalling for a pilot.
+
+Fairport harbor, smooth and safe as it was, cradled among the
+overhanging cliffs, had a guard at its entrance which no stranger might
+defy. Its deep narrow channel went winding among hidden rocks, and woe
+betide the keel that ventured a dozen yards from its appointed path.
+
+For thirty years Joe Robertson had been the pilot of Fairport, and was
+as well known to the frequenters of that harbor as was the tall spire
+which was the pride of the town. The sound of war had, however, roused
+within him the spirit of his father of Revolutionary memory. He declared
+he would not have it said that Joe Robertson was content to play
+door-keeper to the harbor of Fairport, while brave men were shedding
+their blood for the country, as dear to him as to them. Joe's enthusiasm
+was contagious. It spread through all Fairport, and there was hardly a
+man who could bear arms on sea or land who was not off at his country's
+bidding.
+
+Old Jock, who had had one leg bitten off by a shark, men who had been
+crippled by a fall from mainmast or yard, and sickly sailors, worn out
+by the fevers of southern ports, were left at home to keep company with
+the few true landsmen, the shopmen of the town.
+
+Old Jock had been content to serve as pilot since the departure of Joe,
+and well he knew the channel; but he seemed to have grown lazy, or
+particularly careful of himself, since Hal had come under his roof. Now
+he positively refused to go to the vessel in the offing. He plainly
+expressed his doubts as to what kind of a craft she was, and moreover
+declared that such a squall as was coming up was "not to be risked by
+any man in his senses, even if that old ship went to the bottom with
+every soul in her."
+
+Blair listened intently to this conversation. Too many times had he been
+to and fro with his father in his pilot's duty not to know well the
+dangerous channel. Every crook and turn in it was as familiar to him as
+the windings of the little path in his mother's flower-garden. The boy
+stood erect with growing determination as the speakers went on.
+
+"She makes for the shore. She'll surely run on the rocks if a pilot
+don't go to her. If Joe Robertson were only here. What business had a
+man of his age going off to the war, instead of staying to look after
+the harbor of his own town?"
+
+"He has left his son to take his place," said Blair quickly. "I know the
+channel. I am not afraid. I will just speak to my mother, and then I'm
+off."
+
+In a few hurried words the son told his design to the mother who
+understood him so well. "May I go?" he added; "I know you will not
+refuse."
+
+The mother's eyes filled with tears as she spoke. "I will not keep you,
+my noble boy. God bless and watch over you. The true Christian, like his
+Master, takes his life in his hand, and goes forth at the call of duty.
+The true patriot will risk all for his dear countrymen. Go. My prayers
+shall be around you like a guard."
+
+When Blair returned to the wharf it was with his mother at his side. The
+little pilot-boat had been made ready. As he jumped into it, another
+figure quickly followed him. It was Hal Hutchings. "I must go with you,"
+he said with determination. "I can manage a boat. I sha'n't be in the
+way. I couldn't stand it to wait on the shore. May-be two of us will be
+needed."
+
+Blair gave Hal one cordial grasp of the hand, then hoisted his bit of a
+sail, and soon over the wild waves the two boys took their course
+together.
+
+"God help that Blair Robertson. He has the making of the right kind of a
+man in him," exclaimed a bystander.
+
+"He's _our captain_, Blair is," said one of the youngest members of the
+Fairport Guard.
+
+"Who would have thought of Hal's making such a venture?" said Old Jock.
+"He's a little skeary about water yet. But I believe he'd die for Blair
+Robertson. Whatever takes hold of that Hal Hutchings takes him strong."
+
+The mother's eye followed the little boat as it went dancing over the
+waves, but her heart was uplifted in silent prayer.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII.
+
+NO!
+
+
+The pilot-boat was nearing the strange vessel, when Blair suddenly
+exclaimed, "I see British uniforms on board. We have been tricked by
+that flag falsely displayed. It is an English man-of-war. Put about.
+We'll pilot no such vessel into Fairport."
+
+Quick as thought the little boat had turned its head, and was making
+towards the shore. The movement was not unperceived on board the
+man-of-war, and its cause was at once understood. A boat, manned by a
+dozen strong rowers, had been made ready for such an emergency. They
+were quickly in pursuit of the retreating pilot. They gained rapidly
+upon the boys, and were soon alongside, commanding Blair to surrender,
+while half a dozen muskets were aimed at the brave lads.
+
+"Fire! Do your worst! I am not afraid to die!" sprang to the lips of
+Blair Robertson; but he thought of his mother, and was silent. He had no
+right so to throw away the life of her only son.
+
+"Surrender, or we shall fire," was again repeated.
+
+"A couple of unarmed boys, decoyed within your reach, would be a worthy
+mark for your treacherous British muskets," said Blair boldly. "I would
+dare you to fire, but there are those at home who would miss us too
+much. Do what you will with us; we are your prisoners."
+
+The British tars handled their captives without ceremony, and hurried
+them at once on board the man-of-war and presented them before its
+impatient commander.
+
+Not a little surprised at the grotesque appearance of the prisoners, he
+exclaimed in astonishment, "Who and what are you?"
+
+"I am a Yankee boy, the captain of the Fairport Guard," said Blair
+frankly. "We had been parading, when your signal for a pilot called me
+too suddenly away for me to have time to lay aside this dress, _this
+coat_ which my grandfather wore at _Bunker Hill_."
+
+A strong emphasis was laid on the last word of the sentence.
+
+"You young rascal!" exclaimed the commander. "And who is this Tom-fool
+of a companion?"
+
+"It is my friend, and one of our company. He would not see me risking my
+life on the water while he stood on the shore. Would that we had many
+such 'Tom-fools,' with brave, strong hearts like his."
+
+As Blair spoke, he took off his official cap and left his noble young
+head bare. With another movement the precious coat was thrown over his
+arm, and the stripling stood in his school-boy dress before the English
+commander, who exclaimed, "A pretty pilot, you. Who sent you on this mad
+errand?"
+
+"My father has been for thirty years the pilot of Fairport. He is now
+absent fighting for his country against her oppressors. I know the
+channel well. No one of our few remaining men would venture his life in
+such a sea for an unknown vessel, and so I came. I knew it would be
+certain death for you to try to enter that harbor without a pilot."
+
+"Then do your duty, young malapert. There is no time to be lost. We'll
+run up the British flag, and go into port under fair colors."
+
+The commander gave the necessary orders to have the last suggestion
+carried out, and the sailors were prompt to do his bidding.
+
+Blair stood perfectly still, while a look of stern determination sat on
+his young face. "I will never pilot enemies to the shores of our land.
+You can shoot me, but you cannot force me to act the traitor."
+
+The boy spoke resolutely. The English commander eyed him for a moment,
+and then said quickly,
+
+"Shooting is too good for you, young dare-devil. That is quick work,
+soon over. There are other means of bringing you to terms."
+
+The commander held in his hand a thick pamphlet in which he had been
+reading. He made it into a firm scroll, and placed it upon the edge of
+the railing near which he was standing. Then turning to one of the
+sailors, he said, "Here, let me see you cut that through with your
+knife. Be quick."
+
+The man drew the long knife from his belt, and with one sweeping stroke
+severed the thick scroll. One part went fluttering through the air and
+dropped in the angry waters, while the other was firmly held by the
+commander.
+
+"Put young master's right-hand in the same place, and we will see it
+food for fishes. Or will he choose to do his duty, and keep his precious
+five fingers for future use?"
+
+The words had hardly passed from the lips of the British officer, when
+Blair laid his hand calmly on the railing, and exclaimed, "Now, God
+helping me, you may tear me limb from limb, and I will be true to my
+country and my home."
+
+"It's no use. He'll keep his word. You can't force 'im," shouted Hal
+Hutchings, the tears coursing down his cheeks.
+
+The wild winds swept through the rigging, and the storm came on with
+sudden violence.
+
+This was no time for contention with such a spirit as Blair had
+displayed, and the captain at once gave orders to make for the open sea,
+where he might the more safely abide the approaching tempest. The
+Fairport channel had been strewn with too many wrecks to be ventured
+without a careful pilot, and of that the English captain had been fully
+warned.
+
+Blair and Hal were hastily thrust below, while rapid preparations were
+made to meet the coming hour of danger.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII.
+
+THE STORM.
+
+
+The place in which Blair and his companion found themselves was a small
+strongly built closet, used as a "lock-up" for refractory sailors. A
+single bull's-eye admitted a mere glimmer of light for a while, but that
+soon died away in utter darkness as the night came rapidly on. It was
+well for the boys that they knew something of ocean's rough rocking. A
+land-lubber would have had all the miseries of sea-sickness added to the
+horrors of that dreary dungeon.
+
+A new exaltation of spirit had come over Blair. Difficulties and dangers
+seemed as nothing to him while in the path of duty. He feared neither
+the raging elements nor the power of angry enemies. He had the promise
+that those who trust in God shall never be moved, and in this strong
+refuge he was safe.
+
+Not so with poor Hal. The dread of death had seized him, and absorbed
+all other thoughts. He could not but think of the horrors into which he
+should be plunged if he suddenly found a watery grave. Prayer seemed
+impossible for him, as in a kind of agonized waiting he met every plunge
+and reel of the storm-tossed ship.
+
+Ah, the time of peril is not the best time to make one's peace with God.
+When heart and flesh fail, the soul shrinks in dismay before its coming
+doom. Even the wild prayers for deliverance which may burst from the
+affrighted soul, what will they avail at the judgment? Are they the
+cries of the contrite heart mourning for its sins against a holy,
+loving, and beneficent heavenly Father? Are they not rather but as the
+shrieks of the criminal who sees no escape from his merited retribution?
+Alas for him who postpones his day of repentance till face to face with
+the king of terrors. It is he only who is strong in his great Deliverer
+who can see that icy beckoning hand, and amid the shrinking of human
+nature find himself calm in the strength which only God supplies. If the
+agonies or the stupor of the sick-bed unfit the soul to seek peace with
+God in the dying hour, even so does the anguish of such fear as now
+bowed poor Hal to the earth.
+
+As the English lad crouched in his terror, Blair knelt at his side and
+prayed earnestly for him to that God who seemed to the young Christian
+but the more surely at hand, for the tokens of his power that made that
+mighty ship quiver like a leaf in the autumn wind.
+
+Worn out with the excess of his own strong emotion, Hal at length sank
+into a deep slumber, and rolled and tossed with the vessel like a
+lifeless thing. Blair feared the poor boy had actually died of terror;
+but he soon convinced himself that there was yet motion in that heart
+which had throbbed so truly for him.
+
+There was no sleep for Blair during that long wild night. In the
+intensity of his excitement, his thoughts flew through his mind with a
+vividness and a swiftness that made him almost feel that he was tasting
+a new and higher kind of existence. Spiritual things were as real to him
+as his own identity, and the God in whom he trusted seemed at his side
+as a familiar friend. Of his mother too he could think without a tear.
+He was sure that if left childless, she would be comforted and sustained
+and gently led along her lonely pathway. Had he not been fulfilling her
+oft-repeated counsel, to fear nothing but sin? Had he not vindicated
+that love of his native land, which she had taught him should be next to
+his allegiance to God? She might never know his fate. Yet she would
+mourn for him as for one who died in his effort to fulfil the duties of
+his absent father, and risked his own life to save the human freight of
+a ship from wreck and sure destruction.
+
+Daylight brought but a feeble glimmer to Blair's dark prison-house, yet
+he welcomed it as the assurance of dawn--dawn which is ever welcome to
+the watcher, though it may usher in a day of double danger.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX.
+
+A REWARD.
+
+
+Hal was still in the deep sleep into which he had fallen, when the bolts
+of their place of confinement were withdrawn. Blair's clear bright eyes
+looked full in the face of the English commander, who now stood before
+him.
+
+"Give me your hand, my boy," said the captain. "I can respect bravery
+wherever I find it. I honor you for your determined courage. Tell me,
+who taught you so to love your country?"
+
+Blair's hand still hung at his side as he answered, "My mother, sir; the
+best of mothers. She would rather have me die in the right cause, than
+live a traitor."
+
+"You will not give me your hand? Perhaps I do not deserve it; but it
+was not cruelty which prompted me to act as I did last evening. I felt
+our danger, and scrupled not to use any means which should bring you to
+terms. Your constancy triumphed. I knew that no threats could force such
+a spirit. You shall not lose your reward, in the knowledge of the
+service you have done your home and your kindred. My orders were to get
+into the harbor of Fairport, to take possession of the naval stores
+there belonging to privateersmen, and then to reduce the town to ashes."
+
+For the first time Blair's eyes filled with tears, and his chest swelled
+with strong emotion as he exclaimed, "Thank God, I have been able to be
+useful to my country and my home. This will fill my mother's heart with
+joy. To her I owe all in me that is worthy of praise."
+
+"I believe I can trust you, my lad," said the captain. "I would not
+willingly have my name go out as one who would maim and torture a brave
+lad. My desperation is my excuse for my expedient of last evening. I
+want you to promise to keep that scene a secret. You may perchance some
+day have your own sins to cover. I have been reckoned brave and
+honorable, and I would not have my fair name tarnished. Will you
+promise?"
+
+"I forgive you from my heart. I promise," said Blair, frankly extending
+his hand.
+
+"Such a mother as yours can be trusted," said the English commander,
+warmly grasping the offered hand. "She must know how her son did her
+honor in his hour of danger. Tell her the story, but let her keep it to
+herself. The true patriot, my boy, is willing to suffer for his country,
+though he win no glory from his sufferings. Are you equal to such a
+sacrifice?"
+
+"I own I should like to be known as one who had done something for his
+native land," said Blair; "but it will do me good, and make me the purer
+patriot, I trust, to have only my mother's praise, if we ever meet
+again."
+
+"_You_ shall be released at the earliest opportunity; but this your
+companion must stay with us. I wish he was of the stuff that you are. We
+would make a British tar of him, who would do us honor. His tongue tells
+the story of his birth, even if we could doubt the witness of his Saxon
+eyes and hair."
+
+"He chose to be an American. He worked his way to a home with us, and to
+us he ought to belong," said Blair boldly.
+
+"He is English, unnaturalized of course, as he is under age. He belongs
+to us by all law. I wish he were a better prey," said the captain.
+
+"You do Hal Hutchings injustice. A truer heart never throbbed. Timid as
+he is, he ventured with me in the boat because he would not see me go
+alone. Let him once love his duty as he loves me, and there will be no
+post of danger from which he will shrink."
+
+Blair's eyes flashed and his cheek glowed as he spoke.
+
+"He shall be kindly cared for. We will make the best of what is in him.
+You are both free to go your way on board the ship. There is no chance
+of escape where we now are. You will see how our good vessel has
+suffered by the storm. Yet she weathered it bravely. You shall have food
+here presently, and then you are at large, prisoners on parole."
+
+With these words the captain took his leave.
+
+Blair's first impulse, when left alone, was to throw himself on his
+knees beside his sleeping companion. From the depths of his heart he
+thanked God for enabling him to be firm to his duty; and earnestly he
+prayed that he might be made humble in the midst of the honor which had
+been allowed him. For his dear mother too rose a fervent prayer that she
+might be kept in the hollow of her Maker's hand during the absence of
+her son, whom she had striven to train as a Christian patriot, whose
+watchwords are ever, "God and my native land."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X.
+
+A NEW DECK.
+
+
+The British vessel had indeed suffered much damage in the fearful storm.
+The crashing and wrenching that had so overwhelmed poor Hal with terror,
+had been the destruction of mast and yard and bulwark. Yet, though
+sorely dismantled, the good ship was able to keep bravely on her way.
+
+She had been several days heading for the distant shores of England,
+alone on the wide ocean, which like a sulky child bore the marks of its
+late outburst of passion long after the sky above was all smiles and
+sunshine.
+
+The appearance of three sails along the far horizon caught the captain's
+wary eye. That they were Americans he did not doubt--privateers,
+against which singly he could have won an easy victory; but disabled as
+his vessel now was, he could not dare to cope with such a trio.
+
+They gained rapidly upon him. His resolution was taken at once. He wrote
+a few lines hastily, sealed them, and summoned Blair to his side. "My
+boy," he said, "I want to send you on a dangerous mission. Dare you
+trust yourself in your boat upon the sea, chafing as it still is from
+the late storm? I want a messenger to send to yonder craft so swiftly
+nearing us. Dare you go? Your courage shall set you free."
+
+"I will go. God will watch over me, and bring me safe to my mother,"
+said Blair promptly.
+
+A few words of affectionate parting with Hal, and then Blair was again a
+free boy, the sky above and the friendly waters below. Friendly they
+seemed to him as he sped over the waves towards the flag of his native
+land. He did not look behind him to see that the Stars and Stripes were
+waving above the British vessel, run up when she was called on to show
+her colors. He did not note the fact that the deck on which he had
+lately stood was fast passing from sight while he hasted on his errand.
+
+Two of the privateers kept up their chase of the suspicious craft, while
+the other hove to, to receive the message which had been signalized as
+in the hands of the boy in the fast approaching boat.
+
+Blair stepped freely and gladly when he was once more among his own dear
+countrymen, and it was with a beaming face that he presented his sealed
+note to the captain of the "Molly."
+
+The note was as follows: "We send you herewith an American boy, by
+chance our prisoner. We trust that the gaining of such an addition to
+your crew will make amends for the loss of the British property which
+this delay gives us a chance to carry off in safety."
+
+The captain of the Molly read these few words at a glance; then stamping
+his foot, he exclaimed, "You young villain! American or no American, you
+shall suffer for this sneaking trick. We'll send you back again out of
+the mouth of our guns, or half-way at least. It is not worth our while
+to follow that miserable cheat. Those good ships will take him before
+many hours are over. Yankees know a British hull if American colors are
+flying over her."
+
+Blair looked with astonishment where, far over the waters, the British
+man-of-war was fading from sight.
+
+"It is a shabby trick, but I was no party to it," he exclaimed. "I
+would sooner lose my right hand than lift one finger against my
+countrymen. I am an American. I am the son of old Joe Robertson, the
+pilot of Fairport. Perhaps you know him. If you do, you will be sure
+that one of his blood would never do dishonor to the Stars and Stripes."
+
+Captain Knox of the privateer Molly had never heard of Joe Robertson;
+but his knowledge of the world made him see truth and innocence in the
+face of the boy. Blair's words came too quickly, and his voice was
+pitched too high for English birth, and that the blunt captain marked at
+once.
+
+"No matter who you are or where you came from, if you are all right as
+to the Stars and Stripes," said Captain Knox. "We don't ask too many
+questions here as to what folks have been before they come aboard the
+Molly. If you can obey orders and handle a rope, this is the place for
+you to make your fortune. Go aft, and Derry Duck our first-mate will
+find something for you to do in short order. He knows how to take the
+stiffness out of a fellow's bones."
+
+Thus dismissed, Blair mingled among the sailors at the other end of the
+vessel, by no means a welcome guest. Muttered curses fell on his ears,
+and more than one voice was heard to say, "He ought to be sunk forty
+fathoms in salt water, with a hundred weight of lead at his heels."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI.
+
+"MUM."
+
+
+Captain Knox did not set off in pursuit of the British vessel from which
+Blair had so unexpectedly escaped. Our young sailor soon learned that
+the "Molly" was on the look-out for richer prey, in the shape of an East
+Indiaman, whose costly cargo was expected to prove a gold mine for
+captain and crew.
+
+The love of adventure and the lust for gold seemed uppermost in the
+minds of Blair's new companions. The Fairport boy was not long in
+discovering that there was about as little Christian patriotism on board
+the Molly, as there is verdure in Sahara. In the freedom of the
+mess-table, the late achievements of the crew were the occasion of many
+a "yarn," and of many a fierce discussion as to who had been the boldest
+and most reckless in the excitement of attack and victory. It was plain
+that the crew of the Molly were little better than a den of thieves,
+their whole thought being of plunder, their whole ambition the winning
+of gold. Blair blushed for the honor of his country, to find such men
+among her avowed defenders. Oaths and obscenity made even more hateful
+the rough narratives in which each strove to prove himself more hardened
+and abandoned than the last speaker. Blair's soul recoiled with horror
+from the taint of such companionship; yet for him there was no escape.
+Among these coarse rovers he was forced to eat and sleep, to live and
+labor, while many weeks went by.
+
+The youngest on board, he was at the beck and call of these rough men,
+who made his body as weary of doing their bidding as his soul of their
+words of wickedness. A deep, hearty hatred of the crew of the Molly took
+possession of Blair Robertson. He wondered that a benevolent Providence
+should have placed a Christian boy in the midst of the pollution of such
+associates, and subject to the martyrdom of hearing their daily talk. A
+cold and haughty silence was Blair's defence against their scolding and
+their railing. With a feeling of conscious superiority he moved among
+them, desiring their praise even less than their persecution.
+
+The names of the crew of the Molly were as unattractive as their
+appearance and manners. These soubriquets spoke not of pious parents who
+had given their children to God, with a Christian name which they
+trusted would be registered in heaven. They told rather of lawless
+lives, and a past which must be buried in oblivion or acknowledged with
+shame and perhaps fear. "Fighting-cock," "Torpedo," "Brimstone," and
+"the Slasher," were among the leaders who dubbed Blair with the title of
+"Mum," and so saluted him on all occasions. Blair had a very
+considerable sense of his own dignity, and was by no means pleased with
+this style of address. Yet he showed his resentment by increased
+taciturnity rather than by words. Captain Knox and Derry Duck soon found
+out that Blair Robertson was no useless addition to the crew, and
+promptly gave him his share in the watch and in other duties which his
+strength would permit.
+
+The hours of the watch were to Blair the most agreeable he now enjoyed.
+In the silent night, with the sea below and the sentinel stars overhead,
+he could commune with God, undisturbed by the wickedness of man.
+
+Blair had not been a day on board the Molly, when Torpedo, a fiery young
+Spaniard, spied him reading his pocket-Testament in a quiet part of the
+ship. The book was snatched away and flung triumphantly into the water,
+while Torpedo exclaimed in bad English that Blair should follow it if he
+tried to force any of his canting notions on the free crew of the
+privateer. Well was it for Blair that his mind was stored with chapter
+after chapter of the precious volume, which would otherwise have been to
+him now a sealed book. It surprised him to see how much of the
+Scriptures he could by a strong effort recall, and most consoling and
+cheering to him were those words of peace and power.
+
+In one of these lonely watches, Blair's thoughts turned to his present
+companions with his usual loathing. Suddenly there came to him the
+image of these rough bad men in their days of babyhood, ere yet this
+evil world had found its full response in the evil within their poor
+human hearts. He could fancy the loving eye of God on those little ones,
+following them along their dreary pathway, and grieving as thicker grew
+the crust of sin over all that had been pure and childlike, and more and
+more dark their coming doom. Blair realized for the first time the love
+of God, the pure and holy God, for those wicked transgressors of his
+law. "Yes," he thought, "it was while we were yet sinners Christ died
+for us. He came not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance.
+Hateful as must have been to Him the atmosphere of guilt and degradation
+in this lower world, he left his Father's throne and came to seek and to
+save that which was lost." Ah, how unlike the ministry of the Son of
+man had been Blair's proud, self-exalting, unloving demeanor. Perhaps
+mercy for those poor abandoned men had sent a Christian boy to dwell
+among them and show forth the image of his Master. With deep shame Blair
+saw how unchristian had been his thoughts and acts towards his
+uncongenial associates. Had he not cherished the very spirit of the
+Pharisee, "Stand by thyself; I am holier than thou?" Blair thought of
+his proud and hasty temper and of the many sins of his boyhood, and
+meekly owned that but for the loving hand of God which had hedged him
+round against temptation, and planted him in the garden of the Lord, he
+might have been even worse than these wild rovers of the sea. Earnestly
+he prayed that he might so live and love on board the Molly, that at
+least a faint image might be given of the great Example, who endured
+the contradiction of sinners, and for their sakes was willing to suffer
+even unto death.
+
+Shame and indignation that such men should profess to be defenders of
+the American flag had hitherto been a chill to the patriotism of Blair
+Robertson. Now the thought struck him, that if he could but win one of
+these hardy sailors to be a Christian servant of his country, an honor
+to the flag under which he sailed, not in vain would a young patriot
+have endured the trials and temptations of the "Molly." "But," thought
+Blair, "what am I, single-handed, against so many? How can I hope to
+bring a blessing by the prayers of my one heart, be it ever so devoted?"
+He remembered that the prayer of the patriot Moses saved the hosts of
+the children of Israel from utter destruction at the hand of their
+offended God. At the prayer of Paul, the Ruler of the seas gave him not
+only his own life, but the lives of all that were with him in the ship.
+"I cannot," he said to himself, "hope to prevail like these saints of
+old, at least not for my own sake; but the name of Jesus is
+all-powerful. I will plead it for the poor wanderers about me, and God
+will in due time, I trust, prosper and bless my efforts."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII.
+
+THE FIRST EFFORT.
+
+
+"I've broken my jack-knife," said the yellow-headed, yellow-faced tar
+who rejoiced in the nickname of Brimstone. The speech was accompanied by
+an oath that chilled the very soul of Blair Robertson; but it was the
+morning after the watch which had so changed his views towards his wild
+associates, and he at once seized the opportunity to begin his new line
+of conduct.
+
+Blair had a large many-bladed Sheffield knife, which had been a present
+to his father from an English captain. For several years it was hoarded
+as a special treasure, and then on a Christmas-day found its way into
+the pocket of the only son. Blair knew the worth and temper of every
+blade, and its fit and appointed use. Not a boy in Fairport had such a
+knife, as had been acknowledged on all hands. He had besides often
+thought of it as no bad weapon in case of an attack from any of the
+fighting crew of the Molly. "To stick a man," was in their estimation no
+uncommon occurrence, judging from the tales of their adventures, which
+they delighted to tell.
+
+"Take my knife, wont you? It is a first-rate one," said Blair, handing
+over his treasure as freely as if the sacrifice had cost him no effort.
+
+Brimstone opened his round cat-like eyes in surprise; and then dropping
+the knife into the depths of his pocket, said, "Green, green! You
+expected to make a trade with me, I suppose. You can't come it. I never
+swap."
+
+"I meant to make you a present of it. You seemed so put out about your
+knife's breaking," said Blair pleasantly. "A fellow does hate to break
+his knife. An English captain gave that to my father five years ago. It
+has six blades."
+
+Brimstone took the knife out of his pocket and examined it slowly,
+opening blade after blade with the air of a connoisseur.
+
+"I say, youngster, it's a first-rate article. You meant a swap, now; own
+up. What did you mean to ask me for it, if I'd been in the humor?"
+
+"There is only one thing I should like to ask of you," began Blair.
+
+"Ha, ha! I knew you meant a swap," said Brimstone. "There's no harm in
+making a clean breast of it."
+
+"I wanted to ask you not to swear those horrible oaths. I tremble lest
+God, whose great name you blaspheme, should smite you dead with those
+curses on your lips," said Blair earnestly.
+
+Brimstone had the long blade of the knife open. He gave an angry thrust
+at Blair, which the lad skilfully avoided, but without a shadow of fear
+in his fine face. "None of that talk," exclaimed Brimstone. "We say
+_what_ we please and _when_ we please on board the Molly. Mum's the
+right word for you. We want no parson just out of petticoats here."
+
+Blair walked quietly away. His precious knife was gone, and he had
+perhaps but irritated and made more unfriendly one of the very men whom
+he so longed to influence for good. He had left himself without any
+defensive weapon among men who reckoned human life as of trifling value.
+Yet Blair was not discouraged. He had made a beginning; and though
+roughly received, it was an effort put forth in a Christian spirit, and
+could not be lost. With a petition in his heart for the rough sailor he
+had just quitted, Blair went to a quiet part of the ship to write a few
+lines to his mother. It seemed to him it would be a comfort to fancy
+himself in communication with her, though the letter might never fall
+under her dear eyes. Yet that was not impossible. There were letters
+waiting already on board, until they could be sent by some
+homeward-bound craft. The little mail-bag might find a timely and trusty
+bearer.
+
+Blair had nearly filled the sheet before him, unconscious of any
+observers. The vessel lay becalmed, scarcely moving on the quiet waters,
+and the men had been stretched lazily about, or leisurely mending sails,
+or washing their clothing in true sailors' fashion. Drawn on by
+Brimstone's beckoning finger, a group had silently gathered round Blair,
+ready for any wild frolic at the boy's expense which their summoner
+might have in his unscrupulous brain.
+
+Just as Blair put the signature to his letter, the paper was snatched
+from his hand by some one from behind.
+
+"Now hear, worshipful shipmates," said Brimstone, making as if he would
+read the letter aloud.
+
+"You don't know your alphabet," said Derry Duck contemptuously. "I am
+the scholard for you; but I choose to let the writer do his own reading.
+Here, Mum, let us have the benefit of your long-tailed letter in plain
+English, stops put in all right."
+
+Blair's eyes flashed for a moment, but the next he put out his hand for
+the letter, and said pleasantly, "Do you really want to know how a
+Yankee boy writes home to his mother? Well, then, I'll read every word
+out, just as it is written."
+
+[Illustration:]
+
+The tones of Blair's voice were clear and firm as he read as follows:
+
+    "DEAR MOTHER--I always thought I loved you, but I never half knew
+    what you were to me before. I think of you by day, and dream of you
+    by night."
+
+"I should think he was writing to his sweetheart," said Brimstone with a
+coarse laugh.
+
+"Silence," shouted Derry Duck in a tone of command. "Go on, boy."
+
+Blair resumed. "I am on board the 'Molly,' Captain Knox, an American
+privateer, safe and sound, in full health and fair spirits, thanks to
+the good God who has watched over me. It would be a long story to tell
+you how I came here; that I will reserve till we meet. When the British
+commander found he could not _make_ me pilot him into Fairport, he put
+for the open sea, and there we took the gale. A real tear-away it was,
+and raked the old ship well-nigh clean from stem to stern; but they
+rigged her up again, and had her skimming the seas like a duck before
+two days were over. I had to leave Hal Hutchings on board of her; they
+claimed him for an English subject. It was like losing my eyes to part
+with him.
+
+"I never thought to see such danger as has fallen to my lot since I
+kissed you good-by, dear mother; but my heart has never failed me. God
+has sustained me in every hour of trial, and I trust him for all that is
+before me, be it danger or temptation or death. He is all-powerful. In
+his strength I shall come off conqueror. He spread this smiling sky
+above me. He measured these limitless waters in the hollow of his hand.
+He can, he will, keep me from all evil; and if death shall be my
+portion, he will take me, all unworthy as I am, to his kingdom of
+glory, for the sake of our crucified Redeemer."
+
+Blair Robertson had the rare gifts of voice and manner which ever
+exercise an influence more powerful than force of argument or elegance
+of style. What he said went home to the hearts of his hearers. As he
+uttered the deep feelings of his soul, his rude listeners were awed into
+silence. He paused, and there was a moment of deathlike stillness.
+
+It was interrupted by Brimstone, who uttered an oath in coarse bravado,
+as he exclaimed that he for one would hear no more such stuff, fit only
+for milk-sop landlubbers and silly women.
+
+"Read no more, my boy," said Deny Duck soberly. "You cast your pearls
+before swine."
+
+Blair turned a quick look upon the mate as he said, "You then know
+something of Scripture, and can make a right use of it. I believe I
+have found a friend."
+
+"You have, you have," said Derry Duck, grasping the offered hand of the
+stripling in a gripe that would have made him wince with pain but for
+the bounding joy of his heart.
+
+Derry Duck was called away at that moment by a summons from the captain,
+and Blair, unmolested, closed his letter and dropped it in the mail-bag.
+Prayer for the mate of the Molly was in the heart of Blair, even as his
+hands were busy with the melting wax, or loosing the rude entrance to
+the post-office on the sea.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII.
+
+TEMPTATION.
+
+
+Derry Duck was no mean ally. The strength of his arm, and his position
+as second in command, gave him great influence on board the Molly. There
+were traditions of the power of his bare fist to deal death with a
+single blow--traditions which won for him an odd kind of respect, and
+insured for him the obedience he never failed to exact. Derry having
+avowed himself the friend of Blair Robertson, it was well understood
+that there must be an end to the peculiar persecutions to which the boy
+had been subjected. He could not of course escape such rough usage of
+word and act as the crew had for each other, but he was to be no longer
+their chosen butt and scape-goat.
+
+Blair felt at once the advantage of having so powerful "a friend at
+court," and he eagerly seized upon the favorable turn in affairs to
+carry out his new plans and wishes for his associates. It had struck him
+that there was but one way to avoid having his ears pained and his soul
+polluted by the conversation that was the entertainment of the mess. He
+must do his share of the talking, and so adapt it to his own taste and
+principles. The lion's share Blair determined it should be, and that
+without unfairness, as he had to make up for lost time. Once assured
+that Brimstone's unwashed hand was not to be placed over his mouth if he
+attempted to speak, and the cry, "Shut up, Mum," raised by his
+companions, Blair's tongue was set loose.
+
+We have said that Blair was by no means averse to hearing his own voice;
+and much as his guiding motives and aims had changed, the Blair on
+board the Molly was still the same human being that he was in Joe
+Robertson's little parlor in Fairport. Never did city belle strive more
+earnestly to make her conversation attractive to her hearers, than did
+our young patriot, actuated by a motive which is in comparison with hers
+as the sunlight to the glow-worm's uncertain ray.
+
+Blair had songs to sing and speeches to make. He had wild stories of the
+struggles of the early settlers of Maine, caught long ago from the lips
+of gray-haired men and treasured in the boy's heart, that had little
+reckoned the coming use for these hoarded wonders. The captains who had
+shared the services of the pilot of Fairport had filled his willing ears
+with tales of their adventures in every sea and on every coast, and the
+fond father had garnered these marvellous legends to tell to his little
+listener at home, till the child's eyes glowed bright as he panted to
+taste of peril, and do and dare amid the stormy waves.
+
+Now indeed came a time of peril to Blair. With secret delight he found
+he had a power to charm and move even the rough band who gathered round
+him to catch every word of the glowing narratives he poured forth from
+his crowded storehouse. There is something within us all which prompts
+us to adapt our conversation to the taste and capacity of our
+companions. A kindly inclination it may be, and yet it is full of
+danger. He who may dare to be "all things to all men," must, like St.
+Paul, have set his feet on the rock Christ Jesus, and be exalted by the
+continual remembrance of the "cloud of witnesses" in the heavenly
+kingdom, and the fixed, all-searching glance of the pure eye of God,
+reading the inmost soul.
+
+Insensibly Blair inclined to use the language in which his hearers
+couched their own thoughts. As we speak baby-talk to the infant, and
+broken English to the Frenchman, he unconsciously dealt in expressions
+adapted to the wild eager faces that looked into his. Here had surely
+been a temptation that would have dragged the young speaker down to the
+pit which the great adversary had made ready for him, but for the strong
+Deliverer who walked amid the flames of fire with the three faithful
+"children" of old.
+
+Blair saw his danger, and met it not in his own strength. Whether he sat
+down at table, or mingled in the groups on deck, or shared the watch of
+a companion, by a determined and prayerful effort he strove to keep in
+his mind the presence of "One like unto the Son of man." To him that
+face, unsullied by taint of sin or shame, was in the midst of the
+weather-beaten, guilt-marked countenances of the crew of the Molly. He
+who "turned and looked on Peter" was asking his young servant in a
+tender, appealing glance, "Will you blaspheme my name? Will you offend
+Him in whose eyes the heavens are not pure, and who chargeth even his
+angels with folly?"
+
+A deep "No; so help me God," was the full response of the whole being of
+Blair Robertson. He would watch his tongue and guard his lips by the
+continual prayer which should stir in his heart in the midst of speech,
+song, or tale of wild adventure.
+
+When the young sailor had taught his listeners gladly to hear when he
+would give them pleasure, he by degrees gave full utterance to the
+natural language and interests of his heart. They learned to love to
+listen even when he poured forth in his peculiarly melodious voice some
+majestic mariner's hymn, or told in thrilling tones how some God-fearing
+seaman had stood at the helm of a burning ship and headed her to land,
+until he passed from amid the devouring flames to the glory of the
+kingdom of heaven. They heard and could not but admire the story of the
+unselfish Christian captain, who saw himself left alone on the sinking
+ship, but would not crowd the already overloaded boats with his manly
+form. He preferred to meet his doom in the path of duty, and on the deck
+where God had placed him go down to the depths of the sea, sure that his
+Saviour would there receive him and give him an abundant entrance into
+heaven.
+
+Thus in his own way Blair was laboring for the welfare of his shipmates,
+ever praying that some good seed might be blessed by the Lord of the
+vineyard, and spring up unto eternal life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV.
+
+DERRY DUCK.
+
+
+Derry Duck having vouchsafed his protection to the young stranger, for a
+time sought no further intimacy with him. He might be seen occasionally
+among the groups who were won to hear a song or a story from Blair, but
+he was apt to leave these scenes suddenly, as if for some call of duty
+or stirred by some quick and painful thrust of feeling.
+
+Captain Knox was a stern, moody man, who had very little direct
+intercourse with his crew. Derry Duck was made his medium of
+communication on every ordinary occasion. The captain was the only
+person on board who kept a stock of writing materials, and from him,
+through Derry, Blair and the other sailors obtained such articles on
+the rare occasions when they were in demand. There was not much taste or
+time for literary efforts on board the Molly.
+
+A pleasant evening had collected all the sailors on deck, and Blair had
+taken the opportunity to retire below to spend some time in recalling
+Scripture to his mind, which was now his substitute for reading in the
+holy book. He was roused from his meditations by the entrance of Derry
+Duck, with an inkstand in one hand and a sheet of paper in the other.
+Blair rose as the mate came towards him, supposing the writing materials
+were to be left in his charge for some shipmate.
+
+"Sit down, boy," said Derry in his quick way, "sit down; I want you to
+do something for me."
+
+"I should be right glad to do any thing I could for you. You have been a
+real friend to me," said Blair warmly. "You can't think how much I
+thank you for it."
+
+Derry sat down and laid the paper on the table before him. Then the two
+were for a moment silent. Blair and his "friend" formed a strange
+contrast to each other.
+
+The slender stripling, tall for his years, was yet in the blossom of his
+youth. His face, which was so like his loving mother's, would have been
+effeminate, but for the savor of old Joe Robertson the pilot, which told
+in the marked nose and strong chin of the boy, but had no part in his
+great, clear, soul-lit eyes, or the flexible lines of his changing
+mouth. That mouth was now parted as if he would say more, but waited for
+some word or sign from his companion.
+
+Deny Duck was a very bundle of time-worn, storm-tried muscles and
+sinews. The knots on his bare arms were like knobs of oak; and his
+great brawny hand that lay there on the white paper, looked like a
+powerful living thing, having almost an identity and will of its own.
+
+Derry's body and whole development to his thighs were those of a tall,
+stalwart man; but his lower limbs were short and sturdy, ending in great
+flat feet which were as much at home in the water as on the rolling
+deck, or amid the dizzy rigging. These peculiarities had given him the
+name by which he was known--originally "Daring Duck," but by degrees
+contracted into the "Derry Duck" which Blair had caught from the
+sailors.
+
+It was hard to realize that the mate of the Molly had ever been an
+infant, whose tender cheek had been pressed to that of a loving mother.
+And yet it was true that a Christian mother had once hailed that
+hardened man as a gift from God to nurse for him. His lips had been
+taught to pray, and his young footsteps guided to the house of God.
+
+Time had made sad changes in him since then. His skin was now as tough
+and well-tanned as his leathern belt, in which hung many a curious
+implement of war and peace, a perfect tool-shop for the boarder's wild
+work, or the seaman's craft. In that strong, hard face there was a tale
+of a life of exposure, a lawless life, which had well-nigh given over to
+the evil one the soul which God meant for himself.
+
+"I want you to write a letter for me," said Derry, looking cautiously
+about him and then going on, "a letter to my little daughter. Hush; not
+a word of this to any of the men. When it is done, you must put it
+inside of one of your love-letters to your mother. They mustn't get
+wind of it. They are not fit even to know I have such a child, much less
+to see her. Be secret! Can I trust you, my boy?"
+
+"I'll write for you with all my heart," said Blair in astonishment; "and
+of course I wont name it if you don't wish me to; no, not to a soul on
+board. But I shall have to tell my mother, or she wont know what to do
+with the letter."
+
+"Just ask her to mail it for one of your shipmates. That will be
+enough," said Derry quickly. "'Least said, soonest mended.' I have my
+reasons. I know which way the wind blows, and how to ward off a
+sou'-wester."
+
+"What shall I say?" said Blair, taking up the pen, and reaching for the
+paper. Derry's hand lay on it, a "paperweight" that did not move itself
+off at Blair's motion.
+
+"You see," began the sailor, "you see I've got a little daughter, not
+so old as you are by a year or two. I dare say you think she's made of
+coarse stuff like me, fit for the rough and tumble of life. No such
+thing. Her hand is white as a sail on a summer sea, and her little round
+cheek is so soft, Oh, so soft, that when it snugs up to mine it seems as
+if an angel was touching me, and I feel as if I wasn't fit for such as
+her to love and fondle. Yet she loves me; she loves her old dad. She
+don't call me Derry Duck, not she. She don't know any thing about Derry
+Duck, and what he does when he 's off on the sea. I don't mean she ever
+shall. I'd rather die first, gnawed to pieces by a hungry shark. Her
+mother left her to me, a little two-year-old thing, a clinging little
+creature that would snug in my arms and go to sleep, whether I was drunk
+or sober. I killed her mother--sent her to the better country before
+her time. I didn't lay my hand to her; I wasn't bad enough for that.
+But my ways took the pink out of her cheeks, and made her pine away and
+just go out of my sight like the wake of a passing ship. Where she had
+been, there she was not. I loved her, boy, and these eyes cried; these
+great hands would have willingly been worn to the bone with hard work,
+if that could have restored her life. I don't drink any more. I've quit
+that. I haven't touched a drop since she died. I took to the sea. I made
+up my mind I wouldn't kill the little tender thing she left me. _She_
+should never die for knowing how bad her father was. I took the little
+money I had, and bought a real gentleman's suit of clothes. Then I went
+to a minister I knew about, in a far away town, where my--never mind
+where the child's mother came from--and I asked him and his wife to take
+care of the little thing, for a sorrowful man that was going off on the
+sea, and would pay well for what they did. I knew it wasn't the money
+that would make them lay their hand to the work; but they had nothing to
+spare, and I didn't mean to leave her to charity. I wanted her brought
+up to be like her mother, in ways that wouldn't end where I'm going.
+They took her, and there she is. Nobody can see her without loving her,
+such a little, dainty, winning, clinging, pretty thing, nine years have
+made out of the toddlin' creature I put out of my arms, that ached after
+her till I was clear out of sight of land. Don't think I miss seeing her
+when I'm ashore. Don't I leave Derry Duck aboard ship, and put on my
+landsman's clothes, and ride up to the door where she is, with my pocket
+full of money. She don't lack for any thing, I warrant you. She's
+dressed like a rose, all in pink and green, with little ribbons
+fluttering like her little heart when she sees me coming. She's learning
+too. Why, she knows most enough to teach the queen, the child does. And
+then she's so modest and asks me questions, as if I could tell her every
+thing. I always have a cold or a headache or something, and can't say
+much when I'm there. I keep still, and take my fill of looking at her,
+and hugging her close to this old tough heart. I wouldn't let out an
+oath before her. I'd rather see the Molly go to the bottom in fair
+weather. I'm scant of my talk, lest I should let out that my way of
+thinking is different from hers. I wouldn't have her pretty blue eyes
+turn away from me, so sorrowful, yet so loving, just as her mother's
+used to. I couldn't bear that. She loves me, that little pure thing,
+that says its prayers night and morning, and asks God to bless its
+father on the sea. She's my angel. Mayhap those little prayers will get
+heard some day, and a blessing will come to me and make me a different
+man. Only the Almighty could turn Derry Duck into a father fit for that
+child's eyes to look on. My heart yearns after her when I'm far away,
+but I don't let her write to me. I wouldn't have such men as I live with
+know where my flower hides its little head. I wouldn't have her run a
+chance of seeing any body who knows Derry Duck, and might tell her of
+his wild ways. It would break her little heart, it would. I can't write
+to her; not but what I was scholard somewhat, long ago; but these hands
+have had other work to do than holding a pen and making letters that a
+wise little girl like her would think all right. I couldn't either put
+into words just what I want to say. It a'n't much that I would say,
+neither, but a kind of letting out how I set all the world by her, and
+want her to be just so much better than other folks as I am worse.
+Something would slip in that shouldn't, if I was to try; I know there
+would. But you can write for me. You would know just how to put it. She
+says she yearns after me when I'm gone, and would be so full of joy if
+she could once have a letter from me, all her own, to read over and over
+when she can't throw her arms round my neck and put her little loving
+face close up to mine. Will you write for me, boy, something for the
+dear girl to read over, and think the right kind of a father is talking
+to her, a man she wouldn't be ashamed of before the company her mother
+keeps _up there_?"
+
+The last words were spoken reverently, and formed a strange contrast to
+much that had gone before. We have omitted the oaths and rough
+expletives with which Derry interlarded his speech. There is the taint
+of sin even in the repetition of such language.
+
+Blair Robertson had listened with a throbbing heart and tearful eye to
+the sailor's story. It seemed to him that God had not quite cast off one
+who had such a tender care for the happiness and purity of his child.
+Blair gently laid his slender hand on Derry's brawny fingers, and looked
+up earnestly into his face as he said, "Why can't you be just such a
+father, Derry?"
+
+Derry laughed a sorrowful, derisive laugh, and then said almost
+fiercely, "You don't know me, lad. It would chill your very blood to
+know what I've done, and where I've been. There are spots on me that
+nothing can wash out. I've grown into it, boy. It's my life. I'm hard
+and tough, soul and body. There's no making me over. I'm spoiled in the
+grain. I tell you it's too late. I a'n't a father for her to know. I
+can't be made into one. That a'n't what I came here to talk about. Will
+you write my letter, that's the question?"
+
+"Certainly I will write for you in the way that seems to me the best.
+But, Derry, 'there is a fountain opened for sin and all uncleanness.'
+'The blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin.' 'If any man be in
+Christ Jesus, he is a _new creature_; old things have passed away.'
+'With God all things are possible.' 'Christ Jesus came into the world to
+save sinners.' 'Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as
+snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.'"
+
+As Blair spoke these words, he fixed his earnest eyes on the sailor's
+face, and seemed pleading for his very soul.
+
+"There is a look about you like her, like her _up there_," said Derry,
+almost trembling. "I see her face in the dark night when I'm on the
+watch, and her eyes speak to me just as yours do--Oh, so pleading. Hush!
+There's some one coming. Write the letter as if it was one of your own.
+They wont hector you now. I've taught 'em better manners. Let me see 'em
+touch a hair of your head, and I'll finish 'em quick."
+
+As Derry spoke, he gave a thrust with his clenched fist as at an
+imaginary enemy. The eyes that had lately been softened into tenderness
+had their old fierce twinkle, and his hard features settled into their
+fixed expression of determined daring.
+
+The men gave place as he forced his way up the hatchway. On he went,
+stamping along the deck as if he ground an enemy beneath his heel at
+every step.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV.
+
+A LETTER.
+
+
+Blair would gladly have chosen another time and place for the
+composition of the difficult letter he was called on to write, but he
+felt compelled to fulfil his promise at once. The men passed by him in
+silence, save the single remark of Brimstone, "Give my love to your
+_sweet_ mother," delivered in an insulting tone, and with a laugh more
+repulsive than the hiss of a snake.
+
+Blair glanced anxiously in the direction where Derry had disappeared,
+almost fearing to see that clenched hand coming forth to do its
+threatened work of vengeance. But Derry was already far away, and
+Brimstone joined his mess-mates without receiving a word or sign of
+rebuke.
+
+Blair took up his pen with a silent prayer that it might be guided by
+Him without whose aid vain are the most eloquent words of the wisest
+counsellor. His letter was as follows:
+
+    "DEAR ---- I don't know your name, but your father is my friend, and
+    of course I feel interested in you for his sake. He has been very
+    kind to me, and it is a great pleasure to me to do any thing for
+    him. He has been talking to me of you, and while he has gone on deck
+    he wants me to write to you. How he loves you. You are the bright
+    spot to him in life, his oasis in the desert of this weary world.
+    When he is far out on the wide sea, your face comes up before him,
+    and makes the loneliest place a home. He loves to think that you
+    pray for him. He feels that he needs your prayers. Happy are the
+    fathers who, plunged in earthly cares on sea and land, have children
+    to fold their hands and lift their hearts in prayer for them. This
+    is all you can do for your absent father. Though you could give him
+    crowns and kingdoms, wealth and honor, they would not be worth as
+    much as one earnest, faithful, importunate prayer in Jesus' name.
+    That name is all-powerful, and _must prevail_. Your father calls you
+    his 'little flower.' He wants his little flower to be pure and
+    modest and simple, like the lily, which all may consider and see in
+    it the handiwork of God. Only God, who made this beautiful world,
+    can purify and cleanse our souls and help us to walk in his holy
+    ways. I know that you have been taught all this by the kind friends
+    who have watched over you from infancy. Your father wants you to
+    give good heed to their counsel, and ever watch and pray and
+    struggle against temptation. No blow could fall on him so sore as to
+    know his little darling was walking in the wrong path. May you never
+    so grieve his fond heart. Again I must tell you, though you have
+    read it in his repeated caresses, how your father loves you. May you
+    be to him that best of treasures, a prayerful, pious daughter, is
+    the sincere wish of
+
+     "Your father's friend,
+
+     "BLAIR ROBERTSON."
+
+
+
+Blair folded his letter, and then addressing a few lines to his mother,
+he inclosed the two in a single envelope, and sought out Derry for
+further directions. Derry was pacing up and down the deck, making the
+boards ring with his heavy tread.
+
+"Shall I read you what I have written?" said Blair, laying his hand on
+Derry's shoulder.
+
+Derry started as if in a dream; but recollecting himself, he said
+quickly, "Yes, yes. Here, here in the moonlight. No one will listen
+here."
+
+The light of the full moon fell on the open letter, and Blair read it
+without difficulty.
+
+"That's it, that's it. Every word of it true," said Derry in a voice
+trembling with feeling. "It would kill me to think of her going wrong.
+But she wont. Her way is _up_, and mine is _down, down, down_. Give me
+the letter; I'll put the right name on it. You don't mind my seeing what
+goes to your mother. That's no more than fair. I tell you I don't like
+folks to know where my flower hides. I'll see it into the bag, and mind
+you don't breathe a word of this. Mind!"
+
+Derry's finger was raised in a threatening attitude as he spoke, and he
+stopped after he had moved some steps away to give again to Blair this
+sign of silence and secrecy.
+
+Blair lingered on deck, not to enjoy the calm moonlight which so
+lovingly crowned and silvered the crests of the waves. His eyes were
+lifted upward, but not to gaze on the deep blue of the moonlit sky. To
+the great Creator, without whom was not any thing made that was made,
+Blair was pouring out the earnest petitions of his loving heart. For
+Derry and his little daughter prayed the young Christian, as they only
+can pray who believe the blessed words, "If ye shall ask any thing in my
+name, I will do it."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI.
+
+A MARVEL.
+
+
+Weeks flew by while the Molly was cruising about, waiting and watching
+for the expected East Indiaman. The privateer, meanwhile, was not losing
+time. Several small merchant vessels came in her way, and submitted
+without a blow to the argument of her compelling pair of guns. These
+vessels were either stripped of their cargo and then burnt, or else sent
+with a few sailors as their prize crew to some American port. The
+capture of the British merchant ships kept the Molly supplied with the
+necessaries for her continued cruise, and served besides to calm the
+impatience of the men, who were beginning to complain of their captain's
+pertinacious clinging to the hope of taking the East Indiaman, which
+might already be safely harbored in English waters. There had been dark
+nights and foggy days in which she might well have passed them, so they
+reasoned. But Derry Duck said there was no moving the captain, and
+grumblers would do best to "keep their tongues between their teeth." The
+mail-bag of the Molly had gone home on board one of the captured
+vessels, and it was a pleasant thought to Blair that his dear mother
+would soon feel almost as if she heard the voice of her son at her side.
+Derry's little daughter too would receive her letter, and Blair tried to
+picture her joy as she held this treasure in her hands.
+
+Derry moved about in his usual way, but was inclined to avoid Blair
+since the night when he had given the boy his confidence. Blair often
+found it hard to believe that those gentle, tender tones had come from
+Derry's great closely shut mouth, and that those snapping eyes had
+softened almost to tears as he spoke of his darling child.
+
+Sunday on board the Molly was precisely like other days, as far as the
+movements and occupations of the men were concerned. To Blair there was
+ever a more solemn stillness over the sea, and a more imposing grandeur
+in the wide canopy of the overhanging sky. One great temple it seemed to
+him, the sunlit waves its shining floor, the firmament its arching roof,
+and the unseen angels the countless worshippers, singing, "Praise and
+glory and honor be unto the name of God most high." In this adoring song
+Blair heartily joined, and he longed and prayed for the time to come
+when on every white-winged ship there should be gathered the servants of
+the Lord of sabaoth, rejoicing to call upon his holy name and give him
+glory for all his wondrous works.
+
+Absorbed in such thoughts as these, Blair was leaning over the side of
+the ship one Sunday morning. Suddenly a strong voice close at his side
+spoke with deep earnestness the words, "Bless the Lord, O my soul; and
+all that is within me, bless his holy name."
+
+Blair turned in astonishment, and saw Derry Duck close at his side.
+Tears were coursing down those rough cheeks, and the almost blinded eyes
+were lifted reverently upward, and silently spoke the same language as
+the song of praise.
+
+Blair's heart bounded. He could not be deceived. One of God's great
+miracles of grace had been wrought. The devil had been cast out, and the
+ransomed was giving God the glory. It must be so.
+
+Blair seized the hand of his companion, and looking into his face, said
+quickly, "Oh, Derry, are you really in earnest?"
+
+"Bless the Lord, my soul, and forget not all his benefits: who forgiveth
+all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases; who redeemeth thy
+life from destruction; who crowneth thee with loving-kindness and tender
+mercies,'" continued Derry with deep feeling. "He found me dead in
+trespasses and sins; he has given me new life in Christ Jesus. Praise
+and honor unto his holy name."
+
+Tears rushed to the eyes of Blair Robertson. A fervent "Thank God!" was
+all he could utter. Blair's whole being did indeed "magnify the Lord" at
+this wonderful evidence of his power. Curses had been changed to
+praises. The blaspheming lips had been touched by the Saviour's hand,
+and taught the language of the children of God. His young servant could
+not but "stand in awe," and own the might and the wonderful mercy of
+the King of kings.
+
+Derry was the first to break the solemn silence. "Those words never left
+me: 'Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow; though
+they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool,'" he said. "They stuck
+to me, and rang in my ears and searched every nook and cranny of my
+wicked heart. Often I had longed to be a Christian man for the little
+dear's sake, if not for my own; but I said to myself, 'No, Derry Duck,
+you are all pitch, you can't be made white;' and Satan helped me to hold
+on to that way of thinking. Your scripture gave the lie again and again
+to that. It seemed to say to me, _You_ choose blackness and damnation,
+when God asks you to wash and be clean. What I've suffered these weeks,
+no soul out of perdition can tell. The devil clung to me. He would not
+let me go. He claimed me for his own. He told over to me my dark, hidden
+sins, and taunted me that I had gone too far to go back now. He hissed
+in my ear that no power could cleanse and save such as me. Then came up
+the words, 'With God all things are possible,' 'Though your sins be as
+scarlet, they shall be white as snow.' 'Christ Jesus came into the world
+to save _sinners_.' And he has saved _me_. I am _His_. He has given me a
+mouth to praise him. O Blair, think of his wonderful mercy, to take poor
+wicked Derry Duck into the kingdom of heaven."
+
+The boy's heart throbbed and swelled with joy and praise. What was the
+changing of water to wine, or the calming of the stormy sea, compared to
+this marvellous miracle wrought in a living human soul? "He to whom much
+is forgiven, loveth much," said our blessed Saviour; and in Derry this
+truth was abundantly verified. The Christ whose blood could wash such as
+he, was a Lord for whom he was willing to suffer even unto death. The
+mercy that could stoop to ransom such a transgressor, claimed an
+affection before which poor Derry's deep love for his earthly darling
+paled, as the things of time fade into insignificance before the things
+of eternity.
+
+Blair had longed to see his rude shipmates forsaking their sins; he had
+prayed and wrestled in prayer for them. Yet now, when he saw the work
+begun before his eyes, he felt the faithlessness of those very prayers,
+and knew that they could have won no fulfilment, but for the merits of
+the great Intercessor in whose name they had ever been offered.
+
+"Why should it be thought a thing incredible to you that God should
+raise the dead?" This question of the apostle comes with power to the
+Christians of our own day. Do you really believe it _possible_ for God
+to raise to newness of life the dead in trespasses and sins? There is no
+soul so hardened that it cannot be melted to penitence by the touch of
+the mighty Spirit of God. Let this thought make us fervent, importunate,
+instant in prayer for the souls that are at death's door and hasting to
+destruction.
+
+Can any thing but the power of God make the moral man, once proud of his
+own uprightness, humble as the little child, leaning only on the cross
+of Christ for salvation? He who works this wonder can do yet more. What
+are the sins and self-will of the human heart, in comparison with the
+might of the majesty of Jehovah? He who laid the strong foundations of
+the earth, and led forth the marshalled millions of the stars in their
+wonderful order, can mould and fashion the soul of man at his will. Let
+us not stand doubting, timid, and faint-hearted, discouraged by the foul
+sins which blot and efface in man the fair image of his Maker. Let us
+rather "come boldly to the throne of grace," and plead through the great
+Intercessor for every wanderer from the right path, and specially and
+perseveringly for those dear ones of our own households, who, like the
+prodigal, have left the Father's house, to be in misery and want in
+sin's far foreign land.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII.
+
+THE CONFLICT.
+
+  Each kind affection nature gives
+    Religion makes more bright,
+  As sunshine on the landscape falls,
+    And beautifies with light.
+
+
+The patriot had hitherto been sleeping in the heart of Derry Duck; but
+now he was to awake like a "strong man armed." There is not one kindly,
+pleasant, honorable feeling, but is strengthened and ennobled by the
+touch of divine grace. Nor only so: he who finds himself suddenly alive
+to his allegiance to God, has at the same time his vision cleared to see
+around him a thousand hitherto unknown or neglected ties, which bind him
+to his fellow-men. In a whisper of conscience, he is taught that
+
+  He is the faithful patriot,
+   Who keeps his Maker's laws;
+  Nor will the servant of his Lord
+   Forsake his country's cause.
+
+Among the sins of which Derry Duck was called deeply to repent, was the
+dishonor which he had brought on his own Christian land, in many a port
+where his wild deeds had left their guilty trace. What had he done for
+the glory of Christian America? Bravely he had fought under her flag;
+but it had been through reckless daring, or a thirst for gold. Not for a
+noble principle, not for the defence of home and kindred, altar and
+hearth-stone, had he raised his strong right arm.
+
+Blair Robertson rejoiced to see the spirit of true patriotism awaking in
+the bosom of the hardy sailor. The high-souled boy had now a sharer in
+his enthusiastic love of his country, and devotion to her cause. They
+joined their labors at once to improve the defenders of the flag, who
+were their shipmates, and yet a disgrace to their native land. Blair
+went on in his own peculiar way; while Derry at once announced his
+position as a Christian mate, who would suffer no profanity in his
+hearing, and would see the crew of the Molly engage in no deeds on the
+high seas, not sanctioned by the letters of marque which were their
+warrant for their blows struck against the common foe.
+
+Some outward change had been produced in the men of the privateer, when
+all thoughts were suddenly turned into a new channel. A fast sailing
+American merchant ship informed Captain Knox that the expected East
+Indiaman was not more than half a day behind her.
+
+All was at once stir and bustle from stem to stern of the Molly. The
+sturdy little craft was like the bristling porcupine, ready and
+impatient for action, when the masts of the East Indiaman slowly rose
+above the horizon. The privateer gave chase at once, and rapidly neared
+its prey. The guns of the Molly gave the signal for surrender. The
+British flag went down, and Derry Duck, with a strong party of boarders
+was sent at once to seize the valuable prize.
+
+Ready to pounce on their defenceless victims, the eager sailors climbed
+the sides of the huge vessel and stood upon its deck, cutlass and pistol
+in hand. Suddenly the hatchways were thrown open, and a band of British
+soldiers sprang forth with a fierce battle-cry. Derry Duck rushed among
+them with desperate valor, and was heartily seconded by his fearless
+followers.
+
+From the deck of the Molly, Captain Knox could see the trap into which
+he had fallen. He could not use his well-loaded guns without
+destruction to his own men. He could only send reinforcements to their
+small band, and quietly see the battle fought hand to hand, which a few
+cannon balls would have settled in a moment.
+
+Several skilful British marksmen were firing at the few who remained on
+the approaching privateer, when Captain Knox ordered Blair aloft.
+
+Blair obeyed without a moment's hesitation, and sped upward as if in the
+glee of boyhood's play. Yet in the heart of the young patriot there was
+prayer for his soul, should it be set free in that hour of danger; there
+was burning love for his country's cause. The eye of Derry Duck fell on
+the isolated group who had been firing at the privateer. He saw a
+well-known form climbing to the dizzy masthead, while the shot were
+flying around him. Derry rushed in among them with his axe in his hand,
+and waving it around his head scattered them like leaves before the
+wind. He stayed long enough to see that Blair had not dropped like a
+wounded bird among the rigging of the Molly.
+
+Slowly, very slowly, the boy made his way to the deck, then sank down
+faint and bleeding. A bullet had entered his side; yet he had been so
+ready for the stroke that it had not thrown him off his guard. Although
+weak and giddy, he had made his way down his narrow pathway, and
+reported his duty done. Even the hardy captain gave a pitying glance at
+the brave boy as he was borne below by the sailors. Yet this was no time
+for such thoughts in the mind of Captain Knox. The reinforcement from
+the Molly were on the deck of the East Indiaman. He could hear the
+hearty cheer of Derry Duck as he placed himself at their head, and
+rushed upon the brave Britons.
+
+Derry's impetuous charge was too much for the soldiers, many of them
+enfeebled by the climate of India, and going home to recruit in their
+native breezes. Over the deck swept Derry and his band like a fierce
+hurricane, which naught can stay or withstand. A shout of victory went
+up from the Molly, a shout which Derry's excited men sent back over the
+water in a deafening reply. The East Indiaman was won; her crew were
+prisoners; her cargo the prize of the Molly.
+
+Where was Blair Robertson amid the general triumph? This was Derry
+Duck's first question, as his returning footsteps again trod the deck of
+the privateer.
+
+Alone in the deserted cabin, Derry found what was more precious to him
+now than his share in the glory or the spoils of the recent fight.
+
+The rough sailor asked no questions of the fainting lad. Tearing open
+Blair's garments, he found at once the wound, and with ready skill and
+unwavering firmness his sharp knife did the surgeon's duty. The bullet
+was forced out by Derry's hard fingers, and his rough hands tied the
+bandage with a touching attempt at tenderness. Blair uttered no murmur.
+His lips moved gently, but they whispered only words befitting the
+sinner passing into the presence of his God.
+
+Derry caught the low whisper, and understood its meaning. "I can't let
+you go. What! going? Oh my lad!" and Derry Duck's hard, blood-marked
+face was suddenly wet with tears.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII.
+
+WAGES.
+
+
+The East Indiaman was too important a prize to be trusted to any other
+than the skilful sailor and brave officer, Derry Duck. He was at once
+ordered to prepare to take her into an American port, with all due
+formalities.
+
+Derry's sea-chest contained more than his scanty wardrobe, his golden
+gains during this long cruise were garnered there. Yet he trusted it to
+the hands of unscrupulous men, while his own arms found a more welcome
+burden. Tenderly as a mother bears her sleeping infant, Derry clasped a
+slender figure to his rough bosom, and would suffer no one to give him
+aid in his office of love. There was a gentle pulsation in the heart so
+near to his. There was a growing warmth in the form which was so
+precious to the mate of the Molly.
+
+Blair was still alive, and Derry would allow no duty to interfere with
+the sacred privilege of caring for the wounded youth, and bearing him
+home, living or dead, to his mother.
+
+On a couch of Indian luxury Derry laid the prostrate figure of Blair
+Robertson, and as he turned to leave the cabin, the face of the once
+hardened tar was softened into womanly gentleness as he said, "God help
+him, and bring him to, sound and well."
+
+The excessive faintness and exhaustion of the wound had indeed seemed to
+Blair like the lingering, reluctant parting of soul and body; and he
+might well have adopted the words of that hymn, honored by the murmured
+breathings of many a dying saint:
+
+  "What is this absorbs me quite,
+  Steals my senses, shuts my sight,
+  Drowns my spirit, draws my breath?
+  Tell me, my soul, can this be death?
+  The world recedes, it disappears:
+  Heaven opens on my eyes, my ears
+    With sounds seraphic ring:
+  Lend, lend your wings: I mount, I fly;
+  O grave, where is thy victory!
+    O death, where is thy sting!"
+
+The curtain which separates this lower world from the glories of the
+unseen bliss above, had grown thin and almost transparent to the eyes of
+the Christian boy, thus brought to the gates of death. Near, very near
+to him seemed the face of the Saviour who had of late been his realized
+and beloved companion. It was as the mother bows down to her suffering
+child, that this glimpse of the dear Redeemer was made so plain to the
+weakened, prostrate boy. He was still in the flesh, and to know weary
+waiting and suffering, ere health should once more send the glad blood
+bounding along his veins.
+
+Yet there was work for Blair Robertson on his couch of pain, work to do
+for his heavenly Master. Blair was not the only sufferer on board the
+prize.
+
+Often during the homeward voyage, a settee was placed beside the soft
+couch which Derry had appropriated to Blair's especial use. The occupant
+of the settee was a huge, muscular, repulsive young man, whose yellow
+hair lay uncombed on his pillow, while his pale, freckle-marked face
+was distorted with pain, rage, and the torture of a rebellious spirit,
+when sorely smitten by the hand of God.
+
+Many of Brimstone's fierce shipmates had been hurried into eternity in
+the midst of the struggle on the deck of the East Indiaman. Blair's
+coarse tormentor, however, had escaped with his life, but with one leg
+so wounded and bruised that it was promptly cut off, as the only way of
+preventing ultimate death. Brimstone ground his teeth and swore fearful
+imprecations at each movement that reminded him of his loss. It was in
+vain that Derry bade him be quiet, and rather thank God that time was
+left him for repentance. In Brimstone's hardened heart there seemed no
+resting-place for good seed, no soil prepared for the heavenly plant.
+
+His only relief was in forgetfulness of his misfortune, when he was
+wiled from thoughts of himself by one of Blair's stirring tales of
+adventure, or ballads of the olden time. Blair would weary out his
+little strength for the benefit of his companion, and yet win not one
+word of thanks for his kindly endeavors. Yet he persevered, ever
+mingling in his stories and songs whispers of the only source of
+comfort for the afflicted, the only balm for the suffering soul.
+
+Brimstone's wild and wicked life had poisoned the very sources and flow
+of his life's blood. His was no flesh to heal, like that of a healthy
+child.
+
+While Blair was daily making long strides towards health, fierce pains
+and burning inflammation seized on Brimstone's stunted limb. Then no
+voice could soothe him, no words of comfort reach his ear. He chafed and
+tossed upon his narrow couch like a wounded beast of the forest, and
+finally refused to suffer any hand to dress or touch the afflicted part.
+
+Pain ceased at last, the end was near. Death would soon claim the
+loathsome body, and bring the polluted soul before the judgment-bar.
+Blair gently told the sufferer the awful truth, yet not from the lips of
+the lad would he believe such an announcement. It was not until Derry's
+blunt confirmation made sure the fearful tidings, that the dying man
+would believe that he stood on the brink of eternity.
+
+We draw the curtain on the horrors of the scenes that followed. May it
+never be the reader's lot to hear the desperate cries of a ruined soul
+about to meet its God.
+
+The transgressor must eat of the fruit of his choice, and sink into the
+pit towards which his face has been resolutely set. The _wages_ of sin
+is death.
+
+Vain were the pleadings of Blair, and the rougher urgency of Derry,
+calling on the dying man to lift his eyes to the cross of Christ, trust,
+and be saved.
+
+With a fearful howl of anguish the condemned soul took its flight; while
+his companions, awe-struck, prayed God to spare them such a doom.
+
+On the dark waters the body of Brimstone was cast, to be seen no more
+until it should rise at the last day, we fear, to the resurrection of
+damnation.
+
+Lost seemed the labors of Blair Robertson for the good of his worthless
+shipmate; but no prayerful effort for the holy cause is vain. Blair had
+other listeners than the ear to which he spoke. Unconscious of all
+around him, he had but striven to touch and uplift the soul of the dying
+man. The group of sailors gathered round the departing wretch would soon
+be scattered far and wide on the rolling seas, thousands of miles from
+the home of Blair Robertson, and the solemn truths he had spoken might
+spring up in their hearts and bear fruit unto eternal life.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX.
+
+HOME.
+
+
+A light fall of snow had clothed all Fairport in white, and whispered in
+the ears of lingering birds that they had better be off for the "sunny
+south," ere old winter had fairly begun his icy reign. Cold and dark,
+the waters of the harbor lay encircled by the pure and glistening land.
+Cheerful wood fires were warming many a hearth-stone, while wives and
+mothers thought of their absent ones on the sea, and hoped and prayed no
+chilling storm might be rending their sails and perilling the lives so
+precious to home and native land.
+
+Mrs. Robertson had suffered from many anxious thoughts since the
+departure of her brave son. But hers was not a timid or a repining
+spirit. She knew that the same eye watched over him on sea as on land;
+and the almighty arm could protect him as well upon the deep waters, as
+in the shelter of his mother's fireside.
+
+Fairport glasses had plainly seen the British colors mounted by the
+vessel which had borne away the young pilot. The mother's heart throbbed
+as she mentally pictured the determined patriotism of her darling son.
+Not merely a fancy and a picture that scene remained.
+
+The two privateers which had given chase to the dismantled British
+vessel had an easy victory, and soon brought her triumphantly into
+Boston harbor. Hal Hutching's story won him liberty at once. The English
+boy had no sooner set foot on land, than he turned his face in the
+direction of Fairport. Way-worn and foot-sore he was, when he knocked at
+last at Mrs. Robertson's door. Warmth and welcome, love and gratitude
+awaited him within. It was his privilege first to tell the mother how
+nobly her son had borne himself in the hour of trial, and with what
+calmness he had faced the king of terrors. Poor Hal by turns wept and
+glowed with enthusiasm, as he dwelt on the praise of his friend, while
+the mother's heart welled with deep thankfulness at the mercy which had
+so spared and honored her boy.
+
+Many and many a time was Hal Hutchings forced to tell over his story to
+auditors of all ages and conditions. The Fairport Guard, formally
+assembled, demanded the right of a relation especially for them. Every
+young heart beat high, and every eye flashed with kindling pride in
+their brave commander, and each one resolved to be, like him, an honor
+to his home and country. Like Lycurgus, their leader had given his laws,
+then left his followers to be faithful until his return. Anew they
+pledged themselves to keep their pure code, and strive to be a body
+which Blair Robertson the patriot would not be ashamed to command.
+
+Hal Hutchings meekly bore the reflected honors that were thrust upon
+him, and well understood that it was his connection with the absent
+Fairport boy which made him such an object of interest. Hal however did
+not object to the golden gains which resulted from his new position.
+Everybody was ready to give him "a job" now, and his old clothes were
+soon exchanged for new ones, bought with his own money and adapted to
+his own taste.
+
+Not a day passed that did not see Hal Hutchings at Mrs. Robertson's
+door, to lend his strong arm and willing feet to do for her some little
+kindness, a true labor of love. When the Sabbath was wearing away, Hal
+might be seen moving his coarse finger slowly along the sacred page,
+reading holy words, to which Mrs. Robertson from time to time added her
+voice of explanation or gentle persuasive counsel.
+
+So the chilling weeks of autumn passed at Fairport, and now the first
+snow was ushering in November's dreary rule. A strong landward breeze
+was rolling the waves one after another as in a merry chase towards the
+shore, while the Fairport Guard were gathered on the wharf, valiantly
+fighting a battle with snowballs. The appearance of a ship entering the
+harbor soon called the attention of the combatants away from the
+"charge, rally, and charge again," in which they had just been engaged.
+Men muffled in greatcoats came out of the neighboring stores and
+offices, and shivered in the cold wind as they bent their eyes on the
+stranger ship, for so at once they pronounced her.
+
+"British build and rigging, but the right colors flying. She knows the
+channel. See, she makes it as well as if she had Joe Robertson himself
+on board. There now, don't she come up the harbor as if this was her
+home, and she knew just where she was going to cast anchor?"
+
+Remarks like these dropped from the lips of the eager watchers:
+
+"I shouldn't wonder if it was our captain coming from foreign parts,"
+said a small member of the Fairport Guard. "He's took that ship as
+likely as not, and is coming home in her."
+
+"Pshaw, child," burst from several listeners.
+
+"I wish we did know where that boy is," said another speaker. "He's a
+credit to this place, that's certain."
+
+"He's an honor to America," said Hal Hutchings, who was now allowed to
+give his views on all occasions. Hal's face was bent forward, and his
+eye was fixed on a slender lad who was anxiously looking towards the
+shore. "It's him, it's him; it's Blair, I tell you. It's him," shouted
+Hal, throwing his cap in the air, and giving three leaps that would have
+astounded a catamount.
+
+Hal Hutchings fought his way to the privilege of being the first to
+grasp Blair's hand, as he stepped ashore; then there was a perfect rush
+of hands and a cheer from young and old that Derry Duck said was the
+pleasantest music that ever he heard.
+
+"Where is she? Where's my mother, Hal?" said Blair as soon as he could
+speak.
+
+"Hearty, hearty, and just like an angel as she always was," said Hal
+vociferously. The boy's joy seemed to have made him almost beside
+himself. "She don't know you're here, she don't. I'll be off to tell
+her."
+
+"No, Hal, no. I'll be there in a minute myself," said Blair, moving off
+at a marvellous pace for a boy who had been wounded so lately.
+
+The Fairport Guard fell into rank and followed their commander, while a
+motly crowd brought up the rear.
+
+Blair stood on the familiar door-step. He laid his hand on the lock, and
+paused for a second to calm his swelling emotions, in which gratitude to
+God was even stronger than the deep love for his mother.
+
+Quietly sat Mrs. Robertson, plying the needle at her fireside, when the
+door gently opened, and her son stood before her.
+
+That was a moment of joy too deep for description. While the mother and
+son were clasped in a long embrace, Hal could not help having his share
+of the interview by crying out, "He's come home! Be n't it splendid?
+He's come! Dear, dear, I shall burst."
+
+"You dear good fellow," said Blair, throwing his arm over Hal's
+shoulder, "you've been a comfort to my mother, I know."
+
+"That he has," said Mrs. Robertson. "It was he who told me how your
+noble courage saved your native town and the very home of your mother
+from the flames. I thank God for such a son."
+
+"Then I did what you would have wished, mother. Your praise is my
+precious reward," said Blair with affectionate simplicity.
+
+"God has sustained you in the path of duty, and brought you in safety to
+your home and your mother. Let us thank him for all his mercies, my
+son. Hal is no stranger to prayer now; he will gladly join us."
+
+It was indeed the voice of true thanksgiving which rose from those
+grateful hearts. He who has contrived joys for the meanest of his
+creatures, doubtless takes a pure pleasure in the happiness which he
+gives to his chosen ones even here; and rejoices to know that it is but
+the foreshadowing of that eternal delight in store for them where
+parting shall be no more.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX.
+
+SACRED JOY.
+
+
+Sweetly the Sabbath bells sounded in the ear of Blair Robertson. What a
+joy it was to be once more at home, once more in his native land. How
+delightful the thought that prayer had already gone up from many family
+altars, and already Christ's little ones were gathering to be taught of
+him and sing his praise. To dwell among the ungodly is indeed a bitter
+trial. The society of the unprincipled had been to Blair like a dark
+cloud overshadowing his pathway; and it was a new delight to him to be
+once more among the people of God. What a blessing it seemed to him to
+be a dweller in the land of light and liberty, where the free
+worshippers might pray and praise without let or hinderance from
+ungodly men.
+
+Full of such glad thoughts, he walked towards the church so endeared to
+him by many hallowed associations. His mother was at his side, and his
+kind townsmen on every hand were giving him their cordial greeting,
+while the little children looked at him with curious wonder, as the
+brave boy whom even their fathers "delighted to honor."
+
+Once in the house of God, all other thoughts were hushed in the mind of
+Blair, by the remembrance of the presence into which he was now ushered.
+It was a joy to him to join in heartfelt prayer, and praise with so many
+true children of God, and to stand among his brethren who like him could
+say from the heart, "I believe in the Lord Jesus Christ."
+
+A deep, strong voice near him made the young worshipper aware of the
+presence of Derry Duck in the solemn assembly, joining with his whole
+heart in the hymn of praise. Ah, men might heap honor upon the young
+patriot, and applaud his courage in the hour of danger, and welcome was
+their cordial tribute; but their loudest acclamations had not power to
+wake in the soul of Blair Robertson such deep, grateful joy as the sight
+of that ransomed sailor, brought home to the Father's house.
+
+Every word of the service had its meaning to Derry Duck. He confessed
+anew the sins of his burdened heart, and accepted once more the free
+forgiveness found in Christ Jesus. He called on God as his Father, and
+seemed to be professing before men and angels the faith for which he was
+willing to die.
+
+The clergyman gave forth the simple notice, "A person desires to return
+thanks for a safe return from sea." All eyes were suddenly bent upon
+Blair with loving pride. Very deep and true was the thanksgiving of the
+Fairport congregation for the return of their brave deliverer; but who
+shall tell what passed in the mother's heart, or in that of her
+rejoicing son?
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI.
+
+CONCLUSION.
+
+
+It was in vain that Blair tried to persuade Derry Duck to see his
+mother, and accept her thanks for his kindness to her wounded boy. Derry
+declared that he would hear no thanks, the odds were all on the other
+side. And as for sitting down in a Christian woman's parlor, and making
+himself easy there, he wasn't fit for that. A forgiven sinner he
+believed he was, and could bow in the house of God with his fellow-men;
+but he was a beginner in the ways of godliness, too much tainted with
+his miserable past to be right company for those who had never gone so
+far astray. Besides, he pleaded, he had his little flower to see, in her
+own little nook. It would be a shame to him to set his foot on any
+other threshold before he had spoken to her. To her his first spare
+hours belonged.
+
+Derry returned from his visit to his child with his heart more than ever
+full of love to his darling. She had received his letter, and rejoiced
+over it with great joy, declaring that not a treasure she possessed was
+so precious. Derry had allowed himself but the usual short interview,
+ever trembling lest he should mar her delight in her father by some
+knowledge of the wild life he had led. Yet, when he laid his hand on her
+head at parting, he could not resist speaking the fervent "God bless
+you, darling," which stirred at his heart.
+
+She had clasped and kissed his hand with a sudden gladness, as if such
+words from him were both a joy and a surprise. He waited for no
+questions, but hurried away.
+
+"When the war is over, you will come home and settle down with your
+little housekeeper, and let her take care of you. How glad that will
+make her," said Blair persuasively.
+
+"I shall never be fit company for her," said Derry firmly; "I know it,
+my boy. True, I'm a changed man. I trust I'm forgiven for the sake of
+the Crucified. But I've a pit within that needs purging thrice over. A
+man like me is not made into a saint in a minute, though he may read his
+pardon clear. 'Following hard after,' shall be my motto; 'following on
+to know the Lord.' I'm not the one to sit down at the chimney-side with
+a creature like her. No, Blair, I tell you no. Look here, my boy. Here's
+my path of duty. I've a God to glorify, I've a country to serve. Rough
+sailors wont think of my ways as she would. If I'm like a rock in what I
+know is right, and God will help me, I can do 'em good. I can set up
+the right banner among 'em. I can make the forecastle praise the great
+and holy name. It is for this I mean to work. It is for this I mean to
+be a sailor now. There's not a port I've ever set foot in, but I've
+shamed a Christian land there. I mean to put in to every port where I've
+showed my face, and let them see I've changed my colors. Where I've done
+evil, there I mean to try to do good. I can't wipe out bygones. They are
+written in the book _up there_. But there's One in white robes will
+stand for me before his Father's throne. I'll work for Him while there's
+life in me; and when I die, I hope it will be giving praise and glory to
+his name. I want to do my country credit too. It's no shining thing, to
+get in the papers, that I expect to do; but just a patient serving God,
+that brings honor to the land where a man was born. You will pray for
+me, I know, when I'm off on the water; and if I die--your mother knows
+the name--she'll go to my little darling, and tell her how her father
+loved her, and hopes to live with her in the kingdom of heaven. I shall
+be fit to sit down with her at that marriage-feast. I shall have on the
+'white robes,' and poor Derry Duck will have a 'new name,' by which the
+angels will call him, and his little darling will not blush to hear it.
+I shall live with her there." Derry dashed the tears from his eyes as he
+spoke, but he firmly repeated, "Here, I must labor alone, and struggle
+to grow like the Master. _There_, none shall lay any thing to the charge
+of God's elect; and I and my pretty one will join with her mother in
+singing round the throne. Good-by, my boy. God bless you. You have sent
+out a Christian sailor to work for him on the seas. You have sent out a
+lover of his country to strive to do her honor in his closet on his
+knees, at his duty in the fight, and in his hammock when they drop him
+into the deep sea."
+
+Derry wrung the hand of the young patriot, and then moved away with
+quick uncertain steps. A lonely man, yet not alone, there was a comfort
+and joy in the rough sailor's heart. His life of labor was to be a glad
+voyage to a better country, whose harbor lights would be ever leading
+him onward, and whose shining shore would ever glisten for him in the
+certain future beyond the grave.
+
+The young patriot had indeed been blessed in winning such a devoted
+servant to the Master's cause, and such a Christian sailor to maintain
+the honor of his native land.
+
+There was more such work for Blair Robertson, and for it he steadily
+labored.
+
+Peace came with its illuminations and festivities. The sword was laid
+aside on sea and land, yet Blair might still be serving the country he
+so dearly loved. His example, his fireside talk, and his glowing words
+in the assemblies of his people, might ever cast their weight in the
+right balance. The outcasts and the immigrant were still to be so
+trained and ennobled as to make them fit citizens of our free and happy
+land. Above all, by his prayers and his holy living, he might call down
+on his home and country such a blessing as ever encompasses the dwelling
+of him who feareth the Lord.
+
+To be such a patriot was the aim of Blair Robertson. Would that there
+were many so to live and labor. Then might we be sure of victory over
+all our enemies, and of the abounding blessings of lasting peace.
+
+
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+
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+Depicting the adventures of Dr. Kane, and the greater
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+his heroic wife Ann Egede. By a favorite authoress. Cloth
+gilt 25 cts., paper gilt 15 cts.
+
+BETHLEHEM AND HER CHILDREN.
+
+Containing the Grave at Bethlehem, the Bride, the King,
+and the Babe of Bethlehem. With colored frontispiece. 30
+cts. cloth gilt; paper gilt 20 cts.
+
+THE MORNING STAR,
+
+Or, Stories about the Childhood of Jesus.
+Colored frontispiece. 30 cts. cloth gilt; paper gilt 20 cts.
+
+EASY LESSONS FOR THE LITTLE ONES AT HOME.
+
+Colored frontispiece, and other engravings. 30 cts. cloth
+gilt; paper gilt 20 cts.
+
+"THAT SWEET STORY OF OLD;"
+Or, the History of Jesus.
+
+Colored frontispiece. 25 cts. cloth gilt; 15 cts. paper gilt.
+
+Joseph and his Brethren.
+
+Colored frontispiece. 25 cts. cl. gilt; or 15 cts. pap. gilt.
+
+PUBLISHED BY THE
+
+AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY,
+
+And for sale at its Depositories, 150 Nassau-st., New York;
+40 Cornhill, Boston; 929 Chestnut-st., Philadelphia; Baltimore,
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #21125 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/21125)
author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 01:31:58 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 01:31:58 -0700
commit	945ee7a33f93ad3d770eb6aa74a0ca0400f308e1 (patch)
tree	2329ee3aedce769105334bfbfb8f4b44f1f7c610