ured father has shown me how I may put
them to flight by prayer, by looking to Him who died for us, and then
all becomes peace, and joy, and contentment."

"Moggy was just going to give me an account of her early days when you
arrived," said Anna.

"I shall like very much to hear all about her, if Moggy will put off her
history till another day," remarked Frank. "I promised to return home
again without delay, so we must not remain any longer."

"Remember, children dear, time is in God's hand, not ours. We propose,
but He disposes as He knows best. He may think fit to let me live, to
enjoy the comforts you have provided for me in my old age, or He may
think fit to call me home; but while I live my wish will be to please
you if I can benefit you, and my last prayers will be for your welfare."

"Oh, you must live on for many a day, and we must hear your story over
and over again, till we know it by heart," cried Frank, about to go.

"Once for me to tell and once for you to hear would be enough, my dear
lad," said Moggy, shaking her head.

"Good-bye, mother, good-bye," said Tom, his heart evidently touched by
the poor old woman's condition.

"Fare thee well, my son, fare thee well. May Heaven prosper thee and
guard thee on the perilous waters," answered Moggy, gazing intently at
him as before. "So like thy countenance, and thy manners."

The rest of the party uttered their farewells, and leaving the hut, took
their way down the mountain.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

Frank was the life of the family in the drawing-room, and Tom interested
and astonished the inmates of the kitchen with the accounts he gave them
of his own adventures and his young officer's exploits and gallant
deeds. It is possible that some of his companions might have preferred
hearing him sing a rollicking sea song, and seeing him dance a hornpipe,
as most seamen are represented as doing on all possible occasions; but
they soon found out that such was not Tom Holman's way. He could talk,
though, and laugh, and be very merry at times, and never seemed unhappy;
and Mary Jones, Mrs Morgan's old nurse, declared that he was the
pleasantest, and nicest, and quietest, ay, and more than that, the best
young man she had seen for many a day. Not that he was very young, for
he was certainly over forty. Tom Holman was more than pleasant--he was
an earnest, Christian seaman. Happily there are many such now-a-days,
both in the Royal Navy and in the merchant