ng, Poll."

When she had left, Ben drank the soup, and then lay down with a sigh.

"It may be that the warm latitudes will do me good, Watty," he said,
"but I don't feel as if they would. Still I'm resigned to God's will,
though it seems sad to die so young, and just when I've come to know my
dear Redeemer, and might, perhaps, have done some little work for Him.
It seems so strange to be saved and not allowed time to _do_ anything."

"You _have_ done something," returned his friend with an earnest look;
"if I have really turned to Jesus at all, it has been through your
influence, Ben, and I'm sure that Jack would say the same of himself;
and if he and I are spared to do any good work for our Lord, it will be
all owing to you."

"Not to me, Watty, not to me," rejoined Ben, with a glad look; "but if
God's holy Spirit has used me as an instrument in this, I shall have
cause to praise Him for it throughout eternity. Oh! is it not strange
that in a region where there is so little godliness, and while we were
in the eager pursuit of gold, our eyes should have been opened to see
and appreciate the true gold? But now, Watty," he added in a lower
tone, "I want to ask you to do me a favour. I want you to go yourself
to our house, without delay, and break it to mother."

He paused. Watty laid his face in the bedclothes, and wept silently.

"They are very fond of you," continued Ben, "and I should not like them
to hear of it from any one but you. Be very tender to Susan, Watty.
Poor Susan, she will need comfort, and you know how to direct her."

For some time Ben Trench continued talking, and then fell into a quiet
slumber, in which his friend left him, while Polly watched by his side.

The warm latitudes did no good to the invalid. On the contrary, he
suffered much from the heat, and became visibly weaker.

At last the shores of Old England drew nigh. A few days more and they
should sight land. They sought to cheer him with this, but there was no
answering sparkle in Ben's eyes.

"Yes," he said, faintly, "I shall see them all again, but not _here_."

Ben was dying when the _Rainbow_ approached the British Channel. The
whole of the previous day a stiff gale had blown, and this had not much
abated when night drew on. Liverpool was their port, and the captain
carried on full sail--more than the good ship could well bear. It is
not known whether he felt so sure of his course that he did not think it
necessary to