CHAPTER XV.

THEIR FIRST SABBATH ON THE ISLAND, AND THE NIGHT AND MORNING THAT SUCCEEDED.

THE morning sun rose with uncommon beauty, and the young people having retired early to bed, were prepared for early rising. Frank now volunteered to aid his sister in preparing for breakfast; his repentance was shown not by words but by deeds; and though it was only an act of duty performed towards his sister and the company, it was in part a very proper beginning in the observance of a day belonging to Him who encourages us to think that he regards whatever we do from a principle of duty to our fellow men, as being done to himself.

At the time of worship they gathered with more than usual solemnity around the accustomed place, and read the portion of Scripture for the morning. It was a chapter of unusual interest to them all, and particularly so to Harold. He had become increasingly thoughtful since their accident. This morning he appeared to be more serious than ever, and once or twice, when his turn came to read, his voice was so low and un

steady, that he could scarcely be heard. There was evidently some cause of distress to that youth of strong mind and pure life which the others knew not.

The Sabbath passed, as may be readily conceived, without being enlivened by any incidents of a particularly interesting character. It can scarcely be said that they did actually sanctify the Sabbath, for there was nothing spiritual, nor even hearty in their exercises; and they themselves felt that there was a great deficiency somewhere.

Their immethodical though conscientious effort was useful in teaching them to look beyond mere externals for any real good to be derived. They learned they were imperfect even in their best performances, and without merit when they had done what they could.

Late in the evening they went to the seashore, and sitting upon a bank of clean sand near their flag-staff, looked upon the sea from which they had made so providential an escape, and to which they expected once more to commit themselves. A light breeze had been blowing from the west all day, yet light as it was it had been sufficient to raise the waves, and make them roar and break with ominous violence upon the shore. This action of the breeze revealed to them another fact, that two or three miles to the seaward there

was a long and apparently endless chain of breakers extending north and south, as far as the eye could reach. They could see the large waves gather, and the white tops sparkle with foam. Here was another cause for thankfulness. Had the present wind been blowing on the day of their accident, they could not possibly have crossed that foaming bar; they would have been kept at sea, and been to a certainty lost in the sudden squall that arose that night.

But the sight of these breakers was also a source of disquiet, in view of their intended voyage. It was evident, as they supposed, that they could not sail with safety, when the wind was blowing with any freshness, either on or off the shore, on account of the rough swell, caused by the first, and of the danger of being carried out to sea by the last. They conversed long and anxiously upon this new feature in their case; and then, by general consent, kneeled together upon the sands, in conscious helplessness, and implored Him who is the Lord of the seas, to care for them and direct their steps.

When they left the beach, the light of day was fading into the hues of night; and several faint stars peeped timidly from the yet illuminated sky. Mary and Frank retired to their room soon after dark. The larger boys sat for some time, con versing upon their situation and prospects, when

observing the sky to cloud rapidly with the indications of a sudden change of weather, they went to the landing, made their boat secure as possible, and then laid down to rest.

The wind soon began to sigh in the branches of the huge oak above them. Each puff became stronger than the one before it. They could hear the roar of the distant surf, bursting angrily over the sandy barrier, and thundering on the shore. It was the beginning of a hurricane. The boys sprang from their pallets, and dressing themselves hastily, seized the axe and hatchet, and drove the tent-pins deeply into the ground. While thus engaged, Nanny and her kids came up, and showed a strong disposition to take refuge in the tent. The dogs also gave signs of uneasiness, following them around with drooping tails, whining and shivering, as they looked with half shut, winking eyes, in the direction of the wind. These signs of terror in their dumb companions only made the boys work faster, and do their work more securely. They did not content themselves with driving down the tent-pins; they took the logs cut for firewood, and laid them on the windward edges of the tent, to prevent the wind from entering below and blowing the canvass from above their heads. Had they the time they would have laid the sails of their boat, which they had hastily unrigged, above the canvass of the tent; but ere

they could accomplish this, the wind burst upon them with the fury of a tornado. The grand old tree quivered to its roots, and groaned in every limb. The tent fluttered and tugged at the ropes with such force that the deeply driven pins could scarcely hold it down. It was fortunate that it had been pitched under the oak, for the long lower branches, which at ordinary times almost swept the ground, were strained downwards so far, that with their loads of moss, they formed a valuable barrier against the wind.

There was little sleeping for the boys that night. Scarcely had they entered the tent before the rain commenced. It came in heavy drifts, and was carried with such force that, notwithstanding the protection afforded by the oak, it insinuated itself through the close threads of the canvass, and under the edges of the tent. Mary had been awaked by the hammering, and Frank was now roused by the dropping of water in his face. When Robert entered their room to see how they fared, he discovered them seated on a trunk, wrapped in their father's cloak, and sheltered by that very umbrella which Frank had been provident enough to bring. They rolled up their bedding and clothes, and protected as best they could whatever seemed most in danger from the wet. They sat on boxes and trunks, and wrapped themselves in cloaks and blankets; but it was in