"Well, I suppose there is a difference," he laughed.

"Of course, I have known a good many young men in my time, but those matrimonially inclined usually passed by on the other side."

"Perhaps they knew I was coming on this side."

"Perhaps--There's papa. He looks lonesome. We ought to be ashamed of ourselves to hide from him as we did yesterday."

"I agree; but he'll find us now."

Lucy drew the father's attention, and he found a chair near them.

"Isn't the sea beautiful," said Lucy, by way of beginning the conversation properly, now a third person was present. "And what a lot of water there is!" she continued. "What did Lincoln say about the common people? The Lord must like them, because he made so many of them.

Well, the Lord must like water also, as He has made so much of it."

"Water is a very necessary element in the economy of nature," said the father. "Like the flow of blood in the human body, so is water to this world. As far as we know, wherever there is life there is water."

"And that reminds me," said Lucy eagerly, as if a new thought had come to her, "that water is also a sign of purity. Water is used, not only to purify the body, but as a symbol to wash away the sins of the soul.

Paul, you remember, was commanded to 'arise, and be baptized, and wash away thy sins'." Lucy looked at Chester as if giving him a cue.

"In the economy of God," said Chester, "it seems necessary that we must pass through water from one world to another. In like manner, the gateway to the kingdom of heaven is through water. 'Except a man be born of water and of the spirit, he cannot enter into the Kingdom of God' is declared by the Savior himself."

Whether or not the father understood that this brief sermonizing was intended primarily for him, he did not show any resentment. He listened attentively, then added:

"Yes; water has always held an important place among nations. Cicero tells us that Thales the Milesian asserted God formed all things from water--Out in Utah, Chester," said the father, turning abruptly to the young man, "you have an illustration of what water can do in the way of making the desert to blossom."

"Yes; it is truly wonderful, what it has done out there," agreed Chester. Then being urged by both his father and Lucy, he told of the West and its development. He was adroitly led to talk of Piney Ridge Cottage and the people who lived there, their home and community life, their trials, their hopes, their ideals. Ere he was aware, Chester was again in the canyons, and crags and mountain peaks, whose wildness was akin to the wildness of the ocean. Then when his story was told, Lucy said:

"I know where I could get well."

"Where?" asked Chester.

"At Piney Ridge Cottage."

Chester neither agreed nor denied. Just then a steamer came into sight, eastward bound. It proved to be an "ocean grayhound," and Captain Brown coming up, let them look at it through his glass.

"She's going some," remarked the captain; "but I'll warrant the passengers are not riding as easy as we."

"Somehow," said the father, "a passing steamer always brings to me profound thoughts. Now, there, for example, is a spot on the vast expanse of water. It is but a speck, yet within it is a little world, teeming with life. The ship comes into our view, then passes away.

Again, the ship is just a part of a great machine--I use this figure for want of a better one. Every individual on the ship bears a certain relationship to the vessel; the steamer is a part of this world; this world is a cog in the machinery of the solar system; the solar system is but a small group of worlds, which is a part of and depends on, something as much vaster as the world is to this ship. This men call the Universe; but all questions of what or where or when pertaining to this universe are unanswerable. We are lost--we know nothing about it--it is beyond our finite minds."

Captain Brown stood listening to this exposition. His eyes were on the speaker, then on the passing steamer, then on the speaker again.

"Mr. Strong," said he, "at the last church service I attended in Liverpool, the minister was trying to explain what God is,--and just that which you have said is beyond us, that vast, unknown, unknowable something he called God."

"Oh," exclaimed Lucy, involuntarily.

"I'll admit the definition is not very plain," continued the captain.

"We get no sense of nearness from it. I would not know how to pray to or worship such a God; but what are we to do? I have never heard anything more satisfactory, except--well, only when I read my Bible."

"Why not take the plain statement of the Bible, then?" suggested Chester.

"I try to, but my thinking of these things is not clear, because of the interpretation the preachers put upon them--excuse the statement, Mr.

Strong; but perhaps you are an exception. I have never heard you preach."

The minister smiled good-naturedly. Then he said, "Chester here, is quite a preacher himself. Ask his opinion on the matter."

"I shall be happy to listen to him. However, I have an errand just now.

Will you go with me?" this to Chester.

Chester, annoyed for a moment at this unexpected turn, arose and followed the captain into his quarters.

"Sit down," said the captain. "I was glad Mr. Strong gave me an opportunity to get you away, for I have a matter I wish to speak to you about, a matter which I think best to keep from both Mr. Strong and Lucy--but which you ought to know."

"Yes."

The officer seated himself near his table on which were outspread charts and maps. About the table hung a framed picture of the captain's wife and child, a miniature of which he carried in his breast pocket.

"In the first place," began Captain Brown, "I want you to keep this which I tell you secret until I deem it wise to be published. I can trust you for that?"

"Certainly."

Always in the company of the passengers, Captain Brown's bearing was one of assurance. He smiled readily. But now his face was serious, and Chester saw lines of care and anxiety in it.

"I am sorry that I ever suggested to you and your friends--and my dear friends they are too," continued the captain, "that you take this voyage with me, for if anything should happen, I should never forgive myself.

However, there is no occasion for serious alarm--yet."

"What is the matter, captain?"

"I have been deceived regarding the condition of this ship. I was made to understand that she was perfectly sea-worthy--this is my first trip with her--but I now learn that the boilers are in a bad state and the pumps are hardly in a working condition. There is--already a small leak where it is nearly impossible to be reached. We are holding our own very well, and we can jog along in this way for some time, so there is no immediate danger."

Chester experienced a sinking at the heart. From the many questions which thronged into his mind, he put this:

"When might there be danger?"

"If the leak gets bad and the pumps can not handle it. Then a rough sea is to be dreaded."

"What can we do?"

"At present, nothing but keep cool. You are the only one of the passengers that knows anything about this, and I am telling you because I can trust you to be wise and brave, if necessary. If things do not improve, we shall soon be getting our boats in shape. We shall do this as quietly as possible, but someone might see and ask questions. We shall depend on you--and I'll promise to keep you posted on the ship's true condition."

"Thank you, sir."

"And now," said the captain as his face resumed its cheerful expression, "I must make a trip below. When you see me on the bridge again, come up and make that explanation which Mr. Strong said you were able to do. I shall be mighty glad to listen to you."

Chester protested, but the captain would not hear it. "I'll be up in the course of half an hour," said the seaman. "Promise me you'll come?"

"Of course, if you really wish it?"