n Bream! are you there, sir?" cried the voice of his friend the
missionary at that moment down the companion-hatch.

"Ay, ay, I'm here."

"I've found her at last, sir."

The captain incontinently dropped the dozen Testaments into the woman's
lap and went up the companion-ladder like a tree-squirrel.

"This way, sir. She's sittin' abaft the funnel."

In a few seconds Captain Bream and his companion stood before a
pretty-faced, fair-haired woman with soft gentle eyes, which suddenly
opened with surprise as the two men hurried forward and came to a halt
in front of her. The captain looked anxiously at his friend.

"Is this the--" he stopped.

"Yes, that's her," said the missionary with a nod. The captain turned
slowly on his heel, and an irrepressible groan burst from him as he
walked away.

There was no need for the disappointed missionary to ask if he had been
mistaken. One look had sufficed for the captain.

Sadly they returned to the shore, and there the missionary, being near
his house, invited Captain Bream to go home with him and have a cup of
tea.

"It will revive you, my dear sir," he said, as the captain stood in
silence at his side with his head bowed down. "The disappointment must
indeed be great. Don't give up hope, however. But your clothes are wet
still. No wonder you shiver, having gone about so long in damp
garments. Come away."

Captain Bream yielded in silence. He not only went and had a cup of his
hospitable friends's tea, but he afterwards accepted the offer of one of
his beds, where he went into a high fever, from which he did not recover
for many weary weeks.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

THE WRECK OF THE EVENING STAR.

About the time that Captain Bream was slowly recovering from the fever
by which he had been stricken down, a disaster occurred out on the North
Sea, in connection with the Short Blue, which told powerfully on some of
the men of that fleet. This was nothing less than the wreck of the
_Evening Star_.

The weather looked very unsettled the morning on which David Bright's
turn came about to quit the fleet and sail for port. He had flown the
usual flag to intimate his readiness to convey letters, etcetera, on
shore, and had also, with a new feeling of pride, run up his Bethel-Flag
to show his true colours, as he said, and to intimate his willingness to
join with Christian friends in a parting hymn and prayer.

Some had availed themselves of the opportunity, an