f he were a god.

'Reading over all those sweet letters to me signed "Anna,"' he replied
with dreary resignation.

_Autumn_ 1891.

TO PLEASE HIS WIFE

CHAPTER I

The interior of St. James's Church, in Havenpool Town, was slowly
darkening under the close clouds of a winter afternoon. It was Sunday:
service had just ended, the face of the parson in the pulpit was buried
in his hands, and the congregation, with a cheerful sigh of release, were
rising from their knees to depart.

For the moment the stillness was so complete that the surging of the sea
could be heard outside the harbour-bar. Then it was broken by the
footsteps of the clerk going towards the west door to open it in the
usual manner for the exit of the assembly. Before, however, he had
reached the doorway, the latch was lifted from without, and the dark
figure of a man in a sailor's garb appeared against the light.

The clerk stepped aside, the sailor closed the door gently behind him,
and advanced up the nave till he stood at the chancel-step. The parson
looked up from the private little prayer which, after so many for the
parish, he quite fairly took for himself; rose to his feet, and stared at
the intruder.

'I beg your pardon, sir,' said the sailor, addressing the minister in a
voice distinctly audible to all the congregation. 'I have come here to
offer thanks for my narrow escape from shipwreck. I am given to
understand that it is a proper thing to do, if you have no objection?'

The parson, after a moment's pause, said hesitatingly, 'I have no
objection; certainly. It is usual to mention any such wish before
service, so that the proper words may be used in the General
Thanksgiving. But, if you wish, we can read from the form for use after
a storm at sea.'

'Ay, sure; I ain't particular,' said the sailor.

The clerk thereupon directed the sailor to the page in the prayer-book
where the collect of thanksgiving would be found, and the rector began
reading it, the sailor kneeling where he stood, and repeating it after
him word by word in a distinct voice. The people, who had remained agape
and motionless at the proceeding, mechanically knelt down likewise; but
they continued to regard the isolated form of the sailor who, in the
precise middle of the chancel-step, remained fixed on his knees, facing
the east, his hat beside him, his hands joined, and he quite unconscious
of his appearance in their regard.

When his thanksgiv