d grind a dainty boat to
pieces with no more compunction than a dog who snaps at a fly. Must he
take her there? A vision of that inhospitable shore was constantly
with him as he worked. 'New England was presented before him.' Day
after day he drove the thought from him. Night after night it
returned.

'Thou hast her not for nothing. She is needed for the service of
Truth.' Master Robert Fowler grew lean and wan with inward struggle,
but yield his will he could not, yet disobey the Voice he did not
dare. When his wife and children asked what ailed him he answered not,
or gave a surly reply. Truth to tell, he avoided their company all he
could,--and yet a look was in his eyes when they did not notice as if
he had never before felt them half so dear. At length the
long-expected day arrived when the completed vessel sailed graciously
out to sea. But there was no gaiety on board, as there had been when
her sister ships had departed. No cargo had she. No farewells were
said. Master Robert Fowler stole aboard when all beside were sleeping.
The _Woodhouse_ slipped from the grey harbour into the grey sea,
noiselessly as a bird. None of the crew knew what ailed the master,
nor why his door was locked for long hours thereafter, until the
Yorkshire coast first drew dim, and then faded from the horizon. He
would not even tell them whither the vessel was bound. 'Keep a
straight course; come back at four bells, and then I will direct you,'
was all his answer, when the mate knocked at his door for orders.

But within the cabin a man was wrestling with himself upon his knees;
till at last in agony he cried: 'E'en take the boat, Lord, an so Thou
wilt, for I have no power to give her Thee. Yet truly she is Thine.'

* * * * *

At that same hour in London an anxious little company was gathered in
a house at the back side of Thomas Apostles Church, over the door of
which swung the well-known sign of the Fleur-de-luce.

The master of the house, Friend Gerard Roberts, a merchant of Watling
Street, sat at the top of the table in a small upper room. The anxiety
on his countenance was reflected in the faces round his board. Seven
men and four women were there, all soberly clad as befitted
ministering Friends. They were not eating or drinking, but solemnly
seeking for guidance.

'Can no ship then be found to carry us to the other side? For truly
the Lord's word is as a fire and hammer in me, though in the outw