They told their tale, but nothing could be done to reach the drifting vessel. Towards nightfall, some fishermen on the Isle of Mousa, where opposing currents meet, and the sea is white with foam, saw the _Columbine_ pa.s.s, driven along by the wind. She was soon out of sight, and was heard of no more upon the sh.o.r.es of Shetland.

And what became of Elizabeth Mouat, the sick and lonely pa.s.senger, who shared the fate of the abandoned ship?

You must hear her story, for, wonderful to say, she lived to tell it; and I know those who saw her safe and sound in her Shetland home, and heard it from her own lips. But she had been to Norway meanwhile, a much longer voyage than to Lerwick.

Below in the little cabin on that Sat.u.r.day morning, weak from ill-health and very sea-sick from the rolling of the vessel, Elizabeth heard the alarm on deck caused by the accident to the captain, but knew not what had happened. Presently she heard the boat suddenly lowered, and a terrible fear took possession of her mind.

"I am deserted!" she said. "The men have gone off and left me alone in the ship."

With the strength of despair she left her berth, and tried to get on deck; but just as she was about to mount the ladder, it fell to the ground. She had not power to lift it and put it in its place again, though she tried hard and often. But although unable to get on deck, she was just tall enough to look out of the open hatchway; and as she looked this way and that, neither captain nor crew were to be seen, only the little boat, which the _Columbine_ was fast leaving behind; and she knew that her worst fears were realised, and she was indeed left alone.

Presently she began to consider what it was best for her to do, in her solitary condition, as far removed from human aid as poor Robinson Crusoe upon his island.

There was plenty of food on board, but it was impossible for her to reach it, and she had with her in the cabin only a bottle of milk and two biscuits.

As night came on, and the vessel still drifted, carried by the wind, she knew not where, if Elizabeth had not known how to "cry unto the Lord" in her trouble, how terrible her feelings would have been! As she stood with her head just above the hatchway, ever keeping her anxious watch, and searching the horizon in vain for a sail, the wild seas dashing over the vessel often drenched her through and through. She knew that her cries could reach no mortal ear; and still the masterless vessel drifted, drifted on into the night. But Elizabeth had a strong Refuge. She quietly committed herself and the ship to Him, who is "the confidence of all the ends of the earth, and of them that are afar off upon the sea." And when the long night wore through, and morning broke, again she searched the waste of waters with eager eye, but in vain--no land was in sight, no friendly sail showed white against the red dawn. Far as eye could reach, nothing could be seen but the sky above, and the heaving ocean below.

But from that time, during the seven days and nights which followed, Elizabeth never lost hope. When she told the story of those days, she simply said that she put her trust in G.o.d, and that she believed He would bring her safely to land. For a whole week she never slept, but every now and then stood up and looked around for the sail which never appeared, or for the light which, shining through the darkness, should give token that help was at hand. Once indeed she saw the red light of a ship, and her heart beat high; but the vessel went on its way, knowing nothing of the lonely voyager.

The two biscuits were carefully h.o.a.rded, but at last not a crumb remained, and for four days she was without food. But in telling her tale, Elizabeth said that she suffered more from wet and from thirst than from hunger. To allay her thirst, she used to lick the drops of rain from the window panes.

At last, becoming too weak to keep her constant watch, she tied herself close to the hatchway, fearing lest she might roll away from her post of observation, and be unable to get back to it. And so, for eight days, the _Columbine_ and her pa.s.senger--so weak and helpless in herself, so strong in her trust in G.o.d--drifted over the wild waves of the North Sea.

It was on Sunday morning, February 7th, that a vessel which had lost her mast came ash.o.r.e among the rocks near Aalesund, in sight of a crowd of Norwegian villagers. As she drifted in, a woman's head was distinctly seen, and a brave young fisherman, taking a rope with him, swam out to her, climbed on board, and found Elizabeth tied to the hatchway, still alive, still confident.

She was drawn ash.o.r.e by the rope, and thus her long voyage to Norway ended.

She found herself among strangers truly, who spoke a tongue unknown to her, but was kindly cared for at a farm-house, until she was sufficiently recovered to be sent home to Shetland, where she received a letter which must have, indeed surprised and pleased her. It was from our gracious Queen, and contained a present for Elizabeth of twenty pounds. I am sure you will like to read the letter, so here it is:

"WINDSOR CASTLE, _March 27th_, 1886.

"The Queen has been much touched by the account of the sufferings of Miss Mouat, and was pleased to learn, by her brother's letter of the 20th, that she is recovering her strength."

[Ill.u.s.tration: WINDSOR CASTLE.]

Do you not think Elizabeth must be very proud and pleased to show the Queen's letter to those who ask her about her voyage to Norway?

A Norwegian gentleman, writing about the place where the dismasted, unpiloted vessel drifted ash.o.r.e, says:

"Had not the _Columbine_ been steered by an invisible but almighty Hand, she would never have got clear of the thousands of rocks. So furious was the storm that all the boats not taken ash.o.r.e went down at their moorings; and yet the _Columbine_ escaped the network of rocks and skerries, and picked out the only place where she could have beached!"

Elizabeth did not see the Lord Jesus walking upon the waves, and drawing near to her in the dark night, as the disciples did; but surely she heard His voice through the storm, hushing her spirit, and saying to her, as He did to them, "It is I; be not afraid."

I know a little girl, older than Sharley or May, who is fond of repeating a beautiful poem about the storm on the Lake of Galilee. Perhaps you would like to learn it for your next hymn. It is called

"TO YONDER SIDE."

"Behind the hills of Naphtali The sun went slowly down, Leaving on mountain, tower, and tree A tinge of golden brown.

"The cooling breath of evening woke The waves of Galilee, Till on the sh.o.r.e the waters broke In softest melody.

"'Now launch the bark,' the Saviour cried; The chosen Twelve stood by; 'And let us cross to yonder side, Where the hills are steep and high.'

"Gently the bark o'er the waters creeps, While the swelling sail they spread; And the wearied Saviour gently sleeps, With a pillow 'neath His head.

"On downy bed the world seeks rest; Sleep flies the guilty eye; But he who leans on the Father's breast, May sleep when storms are nigh.

"But soon the lowering sky grew dark O'er Bashan's rocky brow; The storm rushed down upon the bark, And waves dashed o'er the prow.

"The pale disciples trembling spake, While yawned the watery grave; 'We perish, Master--Master, wake; Carest Thou not to save?'

"Calmly He rose with sovereign will, And hushed the storm to rest; 'Ye waves,' He whispered, 'Peace, be still!'

They calmed like a pardoned breast.

"So have I seen a fearful storm O'er wakened sinner roll, Till Jesus' voice and Jesus' form Said, 'Peace, thou weary soul'

"And now He bends His gentle eye His wondering followers o'er; 'Why raise this unbelieving cry?

I said, To yonder sh.o.r.e.'

"When first the Saviour wakened me, And showed me why He died, He pointed o'er life's narrow sea, And said, 'To yonder side.'

"'I am the ark where Noah dwelt, And heard the deluge roar-- No soul can perish that has left My res--To yonder sh.o.r.e.'

"Peaceful and calm the tide of life When first I sailed with Thee; My sins forgiven, no inward strife, My breast a gla.s.sy sea.

"But soon the storm of pa.s.sion raves; My soul is tempest tossed; Corruptions rise, like angry waves-- 'Help, Master, I am lost!'

"'Peace, peace, be still, thou raging breast: My fulness is for thee'-- The Saviour speaks, and all is rest, Like the waves of Galilee.

"And now I feel His holy eye Upbraids my heart of pride-- 'Why raise this unbelieving cry?

I said, To yonder side.'"

McCHEYNE.

THE THIRD DAY.

THE EARTH BENEATH.

"_He hangeth the earth upon nothing._"--JOB xxvi. 7.

"_The pillars of the earth are the Lord's, and he hath set the world upon them._"--1 SAM. ii. 8.

"_As for the earth, out of it cometh bread: and under it is turned up as it were fire. The stones of it are the place of sapphires; and it hath dust of gold._"--JOB xxviii. 5, 6.

Have you ever noticed that some words have two meanings, both their own, but giving us very different thoughts about the things of which they speak, according to the way in which we use them?