nowed what would come next. Some
gentlemen threatened to be gormed if they did not discover a solution of
this new and awful problem; others, more definite, were resolved to be
blowed; and all the oldsters were agreed that only a manifest injustice
could have caused them to be born so soon.

Robert Cassall was at length assured by experience that his enterprise
had quadrupled the power of the Mission, and he only longed to see how
his little miracle would succeed in winter. As for Lewis, he set himself
to make a model hospital; his men were made to practise ambulance work
daily; they had practical lectures in the evening, and, in a month,
before the coals had given out, the mere attendants could have managed
respectably if their adored martinet had given in from any cause. One
last picture before the _Bobert Cassall_ makes her brief scurry home.

The long sea was rolling very truly; the sick men in the wards were
resting--clean, quiet, attentive; the nurses lounged at the dispensary
door; Tom Lennard leaned his great bulk against the elaborately solid
machinery which Ferrier had designed for purposes of dentistry, and the
grim, calm old man sat with a tender smile in his eyes which contrasted
prettily with the habitual sternness of his mouth.

A deep contralto voice was intoning a certain very noble fragment of
poetry from a book that the men loved to hear when its words were spoken
by that stately dame, who now read on from psalm to psalm: "For I said
in my haste, I am cut off from before Thine eyes; nevertheless, Thou
heardest the voice of my supplications when I cried unto Thee."

"Amen," said Fullerton. "Amen," added the other three men. "Amen," said
the sick sailors; and the Amen rustled softly above the lower rustle of
the water that fled past the sides of the swift vessel. We shall see
this brave hospital ship again, for I want to dream of her for long and
many a day. Meantime, adieu, sweet lady; adieu.

APPENDIX A.

Since I set down a picture of my North Sea dream, I have passed through
a valley of shadows. The world of men seemed to be shut out; the Past
was forgotten, or, through the dark, vague trouble, Death smiled on me
coldly, as if to warn me that my pulses must soon be touched with ice.
In that strange trance my petty self was forgotten, and I waited quietly
till I should be bathed in the flood of bliss to which Death is but the
Portal. As from some dim, far land there came echoes of storm a