ight
have been instructive. Sadness first--then surprise--then blazing
astonishment--then a pursing of the mouth and a prolonged whistle,
followed by an expressive slap on the thigh. Then, crumpling the letter
into his pocket he put on his glazed hat, sallied forth, and took the
way to his sister's cottage.

At that cottage, about the same time, a great change had taken place in
Jeff Benson--spiritually, not physically, though even in the latter
respect he was at all events not worse than usual. Having gone from bad
to worse in his rebellion, he had at last reached that lowest depth
wherein he not only despaired of the doctor's power to cure him, and his
own power of constitution, but began silently, and in his own mind, to
charge his Maker with having made a complete failure in his creation.

"Life is a muddle, auntie, altogether!" he exclaimed when he reached
this point. It was the lowest ebb--hopeless despair alike of himself
and his God.

"A muddle, Jeff?" said the little woman, raising her eyebrows slightly.
"How can that be possible in the work of a Perfect Creator, and a
Perfect Saviour who redeems from all evil--your supposed `muddle'
included?"

Our young coastguardsman was silent. It was probably the great
turning-point when the Holy Spirit opened his eyes to see Jesus, and all
things in relation to Him. For a long time he did not speak. The lips
of his nurse were also silent, but her heart was not so. At last Jeff
spoke--

"It _must_ be so. Perfection is bound to work out perfection. This
apparent evil _must_ be for good. `He doeth all things well.' Surely I
have read that somewhere!"

In a low clear voice his nurse said--

"`He doeth all things well,'
We say it now with tears;
But we shall sing it with those we love
Through bright eternal years."

"I think the light is dawning, auntie."

"I am _sure_ it is, Jeff."

Again they were silent, and thus they remained while the natural light
faded, until the western sky and sea were dyed in crimson.

The first thing that diverted their thoughts was a quick step outside,
then a thunderous knock at the door, and next moment the captain stood
before them, beaming with excitement, panting heavily, and quite unable
for some minutes to talk coherently.

"Sister," said he at last, "sit down an' listen. Jeff, open your ears."

He drew a crumpled letter from his pocket, spread it on his knee, put on
his glasses, and read as follows:--