What consolation did that book give us! We read and prayed, and then read again in a low voice, and strange as it may seem to some, the time did not appear to drag heavily along; but calmness came ever our minds— our hearts were at peace, we no longer feared what man could do to us.

We had been reading together, when suddenly we both started. A wild cry readied our ears; it was echoed by others in different directions, some coming up the ravine, others sounding, it seemed, overhead. I felt Maud tremble as she clung to me.

"Can those cries come from the heathens, who have discovered our footsteps?" she whispered. "If so, we are lost."

"Not lost, dear Maud," I answered. "They can but take our lives, and I trust that though they may be near they will not find us. Our friends felt sure of our safety in this concealment, so let us not despair, but it will be prudent not to speak."

We remained silent, clinging to each other. Again the wild shrieks and cries echoed around us, some of the voices appeared to be quite close. We sat listening anxiously—now the sounds appeared to proceed from a greater distance. Yes, we trusted that the savages were at length passing by us, their shrieks grew fainter and fainter, and ultimately altogether ceased.

We had been again preserved from a threatened danger. We could scarcely believe that it was over when darkness once more crept up the ravine.



CHAPTER SEVEN.

WE REMAIN CONCEALED, NONE OF OUR FRIENDS APPEARING.—MAUD SEES A PERSON ON THE HILL.—OUR ALARM.—WE AGAIN HEAR VOICES AND FOOTSTEPS.—OUR NATIVE FRIENDS RETURN AND BRING US SAD TIDINGS; YET WE HAVE CAUSE TO BE THANKFUL THAT SOME HAVE ESCAPED.—WE ARE MAKING OUR WAY TO A CANOE, WHEN THE HEATHENS PURSUE US.—ESCAPE.—CHARLES NORTON GIVES ME HIS HISTORY.

Two more days passed away, and none of our friends had come near us. We began to fear that they had been seized by the heathens. Should such be the case, what must be our fate!

"We will wait where we are till our provisions are exhausted, and then we must make our way down to the sea-shore, and perhaps we may be seen by some passing ship and taken off," said Maud. "Anything will be better than trusting ourselves to the savage heathens."

I agreed with her that this was the only plan we could follow, that, indeed, was almost a hopeless one.

"But suppose papa has been detained longer than he expected with Mr Hilton, and returns to the settlement. If so, we may see him and reach his canoe," said Maud. She always called my father papa.

This idea of Maud's gave me new hope, and then I thought how sad must be our meeting when I should have to tell him of our mother's death.

Our chief want in our cavern was water; but Maud managed, by creeping under the bushes, where she was sure she could not be seen, to reach a pool filled by the never ceasing spray from the cascade. I entreated her, however, not to go out often, for I was afraid of her foot slipping, or, notwithstanding her assertion, that some native passing over the mountain above us might catch a glimpse of her. She agreed, therefore, to wait till just after dawn, when no one was likely to be at so great a distance from any habitation. She went out one morning to fill the gourd, which held our store of water, and when she came back she told me that she had seen a person looking down towards her from a point a long way up above the top of the waterfall.

"I did not stop to look a second time," she said, "but, crouching down, crept back, in the hopes that he might not have discovered me."

This circumstance caused us great alarm; still we hoped that even had any one seen her, he might not be able to discover the entrance to our cavern.

"Perhaps the person I saw may have been Tofa, or the young Englishman," exclaimed Maud, as if the thought had suddenly struck her. "They would naturally come to look for us, especially should they know that any of our friends had been discovered by the heathens, and they might assist us greatly."

"I trust that our friends have escaped," I said. "Though it seems strange that they should be so long in returning to us, and as Tofa and the young Englishman are strangers, I would rather trust myself to those whose fidelity has been well tried."

"Oh, but I am sure that the Englishman would defend us with his life," said Maud. "I was struck by the good expression of his countenance, and the way he behaved during the few moments we saw him. I do trust that he has escaped, and I long to know who he is, for I am sure that he is not a common sailor."

In this I agreed with Maud: indeed, had I not known that it is imprudent to trust strangers, I should have been very thankful to obtain his assistance. Although he might be the person Maud had soon, we knew that it would be very unwise to venture out of our concealment.

"Still I should like to try and look out through the brushwood, and then should we see him approaching, and be sure that it is him, we might make ourselves known," said Maud.

As Maud was sure that she could do as she proposed without being discovered, I did not forbid her, though I felt that it might be wiser to remain as closely concealed as we had been hitherto. Still no one approached.

"After all, I may have been mistaken," said Maud, coming back and sitting down by my side.

We were employed as usual in reading, when the sound of voices at a distance reached our ears, coming apparently up the ravine. "Can they be the savages returning to look for us," whispered Maud.

"I think that their voices would sound very differently to those we hear," I answered. "They would be wildly shrieking and shouting, unless they intended to attack an enemy unprepared for them. Still, as the persons may possibly be strangers, we will keep concealed."

We remained seated on the ground, hoping that should enemies be approaching, they would pass by without discovering us. The footsteps grew nearer. We could hear them climbing up the precipice to the ledge on which the cavern opened. Maud, notwithstanding her usual courage, trembled violently.

The boughs were drawn aside, when several natives appeared in front of us. A second glance showed us that they were entirely clothed according to the custom of the converts, and then, to our joy, we saw that Abela was among them. We sprang up and threw ourselves into her arms.

"My children," she said, "we have left you long; but we have had many difficulties to encounter, and, alas! disasters have overtaken our friends. But come, we have no time to lose, we will tell you more as we go along."

We were thankful to find that besides Abela, those who had accompanied us to our hiding-place had likewise escaped. Our friends having taken the baskets, and the remainder of our provisions, we set off down the ravine, which led, as we supposed, towards the sea-shore. I immediately inquired of Abela if she had heard of my father.

"Alas! no, my child," she answered, "Our good pastor's canoe has not returned; we have anxiously kept watch for him, and he could scarcely have reached the shore without having been observed." I then inquired for Nanari, who might, I hoped, have escaped. "He died faithfully at his post with those whom he would not desert," she answered. "He was entreated by the sick and wounded to fly, but would not, and then, alas! the savage people rushed in and slew him."

She then told me that Lisele was safe, although she had run great risk of being captured by the heathens. The fleet we had seen was the remnant of that with which Masaugu had set sail. Though at first victorious in his expedition, he had been attacked by overwhelming numbers of his enemies, and, with the loss of a large portion of his warriors, and many of his canoes, had with difficulty reached the island. On his arrival he found a large party of the heathens, who had heard that he intended to lotu, arrayed against him, and once more he had to put to sea. He had, however, reached the end of the island where we now were. There Lisele had joined him, and, at her earnest entreaties, he had left a canoe to convoy us away. Abela told us also that Tofa and the young Englishman had been communicated with, and she hoped that they would be found already on board the canoe.

"Oh then we will proceed at once to Mr Hilton's station," I exclaimed. "What joy it will be if we find that my father has not yet quitted it."

"Such are Masaugu's intentions," said Abela. "He has seen the folly of his conduct in going to attack his enemies when so earnestly warned by your father, and now he wishes to remain with the Christian missionary, that he may receive instruction in the truths he before despised."

The news we thus received caused us many conflicting feeling's. We deeply grieved for the loss of the faithful Nanari, while my anxiety about my father was still unrelieved. Yet we rejoiced that Masaugu, through the severe lesson he had received, should have been induced to seek for Christian instruction.

Our path down the ravine was extremely difficult, and often dangerous, and we could make but slow progress. Abela, however, hurried on as fast as we could venture to proceed, for she feared that the heathens, knowing that many of the Christians had escaped, would be searching for us, and that although they might not dare to follow Masaugu's fleet, they would not hesitate to attack the single canoe, with only a small party on board. At length we caught sight of the blue ocean, but the sparkling white lines of foam I saw dancing over it, made me fear that the canoe would have a hard buffet with the waves.

We were already not far from the beach, when we saw two persons running towards us—they were Tofa and the young Englishman. "Hasten," they exclaimed; "a large band of our enemies are coming along the shore, and we have been in dread that you would be cut off." The latter, who of course spoke in English, took Maud and me by the hands to assist us, and helped along by him we soon reached the boat. The crew stood ready with poles to urge on the canoe into deep water. We were speedily on board, and launching forth; the wind being favourable, a large triangular mat sail was set, and we glided away from the beach.

Scarcely had we got beyond the reach of their spears, than the savages arrived at the spot we had left. Several were hurled at us, but happily no one was hit, and the next shower, which the vindictive savages darted from their hands, fell short of our canoe.

Abela and every Christian with her knelt down on the deck and offered up an earnest prayer—in which we joined—that the hearts of our foes might be changed, and that they would ere long be brought to know the truth. The savages continued shrieking and shouting at us till we had got outside the reef. Happily no canoe was near, or they would undoubtedly have followed us.

We could see Masaugu's fleet in the far distance; but as our canoe was smaller than any of his we could not hope to overtake him. I was thankful, however, to find that he was steering towards Mr Hilton's station, where we hoped in time to arrive. The sea was, as I had feared, very rough, and though our canoe was strong and buoyant, she was tossed much about, and had it not been for the assistance of the young Englishman and Tofa, we should have had great difficulty in clinging to the deck. In the centre was a small house or cabin, generally used by the chief or owner of the canoe, and this we found was to be devoted to our use at night as a sleeping place. Still, as I surveyed the curiously-constructed and apparently weak vessel, I could not help feeling that a voyage on board her of the length we were about to attempt, must be attended with much danger. Happily we could say at sea as on shore, "We will trust ourselves to the care of One all-powerful to save."

As I now had a better opportunity of observing the young stranger more particularly than before, I felt more convinced than at first that he was a person of education. His manner towards Maud and me especially, was retiring and reserved, and he seemed unwilling to intrude himself upon us. After some time, however, he came and sat near us, and thanked me for the note I had written, which, as he supposed, had not only been the means of obtaining his freedom, but of his life being preserved.

"I wrote merely on the possibility of any European having escaped the massacre which I understood had taken place," I answered. "I can therefore claim no thanks from you."

"I am not the less grateful," he answered. "I had so fully expected to be killed, that I feel like one risen from the dead."

"I trust that you have risen to newness of life," I ventured to say, for I am sure it was a remark my father would have made, and I felt anxious to be assured that the young man was under religious impressions. It was an opportunity indeed I dare not let pass by.

"Yes, Miss Liddiard, I do feel that," he exclaimed. "And with what horror do I reflect what would have been my doom had I died with my companions. I knew the truth when I was a boy, for I had been brought up by a pious father and mother, but I became careless and wild, and neglected all their precepts and warnings. I went on from bad to worse, and at length, believing that if I could get out to the Pacific—of which I had read—I could enjoy unfettered liberty and licence, I shipped on board a vessel bound out, round Cape Horn. Having knocked about in the way I proposed for some time, though, as may be supposed, I did not find the life among rough seamen and fierce savages as agreeable as I had expected, I at length reached Sydney in New South Wales. I there joined the sandal wood trader, which has been so fearfully destroyed.

"Just before going on board I met an old friend of my father's, a missionary, whom I had known at home. He spoke to me seriously, and warned me against joining the vessel, knowing as he did, the lawless character of her crew. He offered to obtain my discharge if I would come and live with him. His words made a deep impression on my heart, although I was too self-willed to follow his advice. During the voyage, while we were sailing from island to island, those words often and often recurred to my mind. I in vain attempted to drive them from me. When I saw my companions being put to death—expecting to meet the same fate— how earnestly I wished that I had followed my friend's counsels. I could only utter, 'Lord be merciful to me a sinner,' and entreated God to protect me. When I found myself so unexpectedly preserved, I remembered the prayer I had uttered, and resolved to give myself to the service of God in any way He might open out for me. You now know my brief history, Miss Liddiard. I felt bound to give it you, but I am unwilling to trouble you with more than I have already told you about myself. My name is Charles Norton."

"You can have no difficulty in finding opportunities of serving God, Mr Norton," I exclaimed. "When we see thousands and tens of thousands of human beings scattered about this broad Pacific ignorant of Him, and given over to abominable heathen practices, all requiring to be fed with the bread of life. Why should you not prepare yourself to go forth as a missionary among them?"

"I feel that I am too unworthy and sinful to undertake so serious an office," he said humbly.

"No human being could be qualified to go forth as a missionary of the gospel trusting alone to his own merits, and no one would be found to undertake the office were all influenced by the opinion you express," I observed. "All must feel their unworthiness and we must take God at His word, and believe that the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth from all sin, and then go forth and declare what great things He has done for us. I repeat what I have heard my father say:—We must not trust to our feelings, but we must believe that God is a rewarder of those who diligently serve Him, not only of those who have all along done so."

"You have given me new life and hope," exclaimed the young man. "Henceforth, if my life is spared, after having prepared myself for the task, I will devote it to making known the gospel to the poor heathens of these regions."



CHAPTER EIGHT.

WHILE ON OUR PASSAGE IN THE CANOE A STORM ARISES.—WE ARE DRIVEN FAR AWAY TO LEEWARD OF THE ISLAND.—ABELA INSTRUCTS TOFA IN THE TRUTH.— SCARCITY OF FOOD AND WATER.—OUR SUFFERINGS BECOME INTENSE.—THE NATIVE CREW GIVE WAY TO DESPAIR.

Although the sea was rough the canoe had made good progress towards our destination when night came on. The wind had been increasing, and I saw the natives looking anxiously at the sky, which had become overcast. The darkness was intense, and we had no compass in the canoe by which to direct our course. The native boatmen, however, continued steering on, trusting to the wind, which had remained steadily blowing from one quarter. Still, as the waves rose, and our frail canoe pitched and tossed about, it seemed to me that she would be unable to accomplish the passage.

Abela was sitting by us. "Alas," she exclaimed, "we have escaped the fury of our enemies only, I fear, to perish in the waves."

"Nay, nay, Abela," said Maud. "God, who has protected us heretofore, can protect us still. He will find a way for us to escape if it is His will that we should do so."

"Ah, you are right," answered Abela, "and I am weak and faithless to doubt His love."

Still I must confess that it required much strong faith not to feel nervous and alarmed while we saw the dark foaming seas rising up around us, and apparently every moment about to overwhelm our little vessel. The crew had lessened the sail, but yet it seemed scarcely capable of withstanding the furious blasts which struck it. Maud and I, with Abela and the other women, sat close together in the little hut on deck. I observed that Mr Norton and Tofa had come nearer us as if to try and prevent us from being washed away should a sea break on board, which it appeared too probable would occur. The canoe was excessively buoyant, or she could not have escaped being overwhelmed. Onward she continued to fly over the tumbling waters, and we at length, becoming accustomed to the movement of the vessel, began to hope that she would reach the shore in safety, and already the crew were looking out in the expectation of seeing it ahead.

All our hopes were to be disappointed. A furious blast struck the sail, and before it could be lowered it was torn away, with the spars which supported it, and we were left helpless on the wild ocean. To attempt to use the paddles in such a sea was useless. The helmsman had turned the head of the canoe away from the wind, and all that now could be done was to fly before it. The gale increased. On we went, expecting every moment that the seas would overwhelm us.

We could sit quiet and pray, but I felt much for our poor heathen crew, who had no such consolation. Abela had called young Tofa to her side, and was endeavouring to explain to him the glorious truths of the faith she held, he seemed greatly struck by her calm resignation.

"Formerly you would have shrieked out, and trembled with fear," he observed. "Now you seem as brave as the boldest of our warriors."

"I am brave, because I know in whom I trust," answered Abela. "I have the support of the Holy Spirit sent by Jehovah. Though I am by myself still very weak, my soul is at peace, and I know if I am taken away from this world that I shall go to a better and more glorious land, where I shall live with my Saviour, who has redeemed me, and bought me with the price of His most precious blood."

"Oh, how I wish I could go with you to that glorious land," said the lad. "But I am not fit; I could not be received there, if Jehovah is the pure and holy Being you say He is."

"You will be fit to go the moment you accept the offers Jesus makes you, and you are sure to be received there," answered Abela, and once more she explained to him the simple plan of salvation. "You see, my son, that you have nothing to do; but all has been done for you, to satisfy God's justice. You are bought by the blood of Jesus. God makes you a free gift of salvation. If He required anything in return it would not be a free gift. If you had anything to pay it would show that the purchase was not completed by Christ. Now God says that the purchase was completed on Calvary, and He tells us that eternal salvation is a free gift; we, therefore, offend God when we want to pay anything to Him in return, and we dishonour the purchase made by Christ when we fancy that it is insufficient. Still, after you have become the servant of Christ, if life is spared you, you will desire to obey Him, and please Him, and do His will by every means in your power. This will show that you have a living faith, and that you are really, as you profess to be, His disciple."

"Oh, I am sure what you say is true," exclaimed Tofa. "Although I cannot yet understand it all I believe in Jesus, I trust to Him, I will never never again worship the foolish idols I have till now trusted in. You must tell me all you have said over and over again, for I wish to know all I can about Jesus, that should the canoe be overwhelmed by the sea, I may be ready to go and dwell with Him."

The young Englishman occasionally spoke to us. He was not ignorant of gospel truth, but, alas, he had long sinned against light and knowledge, and rejected what he knew in his heart to be true. His merciful preservation had been the means of changing that heart, he was really born again, and now the knowledge he possessed seemed to come back to him. Notwithstanding the fearful danger in which we were placed, his manner was calm and composed. He did not speak to us as many a brave worldly man would have done, urging us to keep up our spirits, expressing a hope that the storm would soon abate, and that we should be able to return to the land; he observed only, "we must trust in God's merciful protection; let us remember that we are in His hands."

Maud and I responded to what he said.

"Those days I spent in solitude in the mountains have, indeed, been precious days to me, Miss Liddiard," he continued. "I felt like the prodigal son, who had returned to his father, and the bright gleam of His smile seemed to rest on me. My only regret was, that I had not His word to apply to, but many precious verses which I had learned as a child came back to me, and afforded me comfort and consolation, and then I could pray as I had never prayed before."

I told him that we had been employed in the same way, and that happily having a Bible we could turn to the sacred page, and draw comfort from the ever flowing fountain.

Thus the hours of darkness passed away. The canoe, from the lightness of her construction, rode easily over the seas, driving, as she now was, directly before the gale, and we were not pitched and tumbled about as we had been when the wind was on her side, and we were attempting to steer for the island. When morning dawned the foaming waters were around us on every side, and we could just distinguish in the far distance, almost astern, the dim outline of the island which we had hoped to reach. Had the weather been moderate the canoe men might have attempted to make their way towards it, but that, was now impossible, and we continued to drive on, leaving it further and further behind. Where we were going we could not tell. The natives knew of no islands in that direction, and I heard them reminding each other of several canoes which had been blown off the land and had not again been heard of.

We asked Mr Norton his opinion. He had, he said, during the last day he was on board examined a chart, and he could afford us but little hope that we should reach any shore where we might obtain a new mast and sail and be able to return the way we had come. "There are islands a long way off; but as the inhabitants, I fear, are savage in the extreme, it would be dangerous to land amongst them," he added. "Still, though we speak of the dangers we may have to encounter, let us continue, trusting firmly that God is watching over us, and though we cannot yet see the way by which He intends to save us—if such is His good will—He has nevertheless got it ready, while we on our part are bound to make every exertion to preserve our lives. As we may not for a considerable time reach land, I must therefore, in the first place, strongly urge the people to place themselves on an allowance of food and water. We should use as little as will suffice to sustain life, that we may the longer be able to hold out."

I explained what the young Englishman said to Abela; and she and Tofa spoke to their countrymen, and persuaded them to do as he advised. The wind had somewhat abated, but as it was still too strong to permit of our making head against it, we continued to drive on as before. We read the Bible, and prayed several times during the day, and occasionally some of the heathen crew came, and, kneeling down near us, listened while I read.

Abela, although she had not begun her studies till about two years before this, read very fairly, but she was especially powerful in prayer, and her whole heart and soul seemed lifted up as she poured forth her petitions—seldom failing to exclaim, "Lord be merciful to me a sinner."

The hours passed on, and we felt that an all-powerful hand was protecting our frail bark from the fury of the seas. When the water washed into the canoe beneath the platform, it was quickly bailed out again, and everything was so firmly secured, that in spite of the tossing and tumbling of the vessel she held as tightly together as at first.

Another day and another and another passed by, and still the strong wind prevented us from attempting to return. Many of the heathen crew appeared to have resigned themselves to their fate, and had it not been for the influence Abela exerted over them—supported as she was by the young Englishman and Tofa—I believe that they would quickly have consumed all the provisions, and have then laid down to die.

We were already feeling the ill effects of the small amount of food we could venture to eat. The sun too, burst forth, and its burning rays striking down upon us; we now, in addition to hunger, began to feel the fearful sufferings of thirst. What must it be should a calm come on! And although the crew might then use their paddles with effect, their strength would be gone, and very many days must pass before we could regain the island from which we had been driven.

Often and often I thought of my poor father. I persuaded myself that he had certainly remained with Mr Hilton, and that had we arrived in safety we should have had the happiness of seeing him. Now should he return to the settlement, what would be his feelings to find it desolate, and to suppose, as he must, that we had shared the fate of the other inhabitants.

Our condition was also becoming, humanly speaking, fearful in the extreme. As I looked at Maud's pale countenance I feared that she could not long endure such suffering. I was not aware that I looked equally ill. The young Englishman treated us with the most gentle and constant attention; he even insisted on our taking a portion of his scanty allowance of food and water, and when we refused to deprive him of it I am sure that he took means to add it unseen to our shares. At length the gale ceased, the canoe no longer tumbled about, and the heat of the sun's rays—as they shone upon the glass-like surface of the ocean on which we floated—was intense in the extreme. Abela urged the crew to get out their paddles, but they answered, as I had expected, "we cannot live to reach the island, and when our food and water are exhausted, we will lie down and die. There is nothing else for us to do."



CHAPTER NINE.

A CALM.—THE CANOE FLOATS MOTIONLESS ON THE OCEAN.—MANY OF OUR NUMBER APPEAR TO BE DYING FOR WANT OF WATER.—I FEAR CHIEFLY FOR MAUD, WHEN A SAIL IS SEEN, AND, WITH A RISING BREEZE, SHE APPROACHES.—WE ARE RECEIVED ON BOARD THE "TRUE LOVE," AND KINDLY TREATED BY CAPTAIN HUDSON AND HIS WIFE.

The canoe still floated motionless on the calm ocean, which shone like a sheet of burnished gold. Maud and I lay in each other's arms, expecting thus to die. Still we could whisper together, and talk of the glories of that heaven we hoped soon to reach. Abela sat like a mother watching over us, but she too was sinking. Of the heathen crew several appeared to be dying, if they were not already dead; but others, who had listened to the Word of Life, gathered round us that they might hear the instruction which Abela, as long as she had the power of speech, afforded them. Young Tofa bore up bravely, and Mr Norton struggled wonderfully with his sufferings. He occasionally rose to his feet and gazed around, as if he still hoped help would come ere it was too late. Another day I felt sure must terminate the existence of most of those on board.

I closed my eyes, feeling a faintness coming over me, when I was aroused by Mr Norton's voice. I saw him standing up, with his arms outstretched, and his dim eye lighted up.

"A sail! a sail!" he exclaimed. "She is bringing up the breeze—she is standing this way."

This announcement gave me a strength I did not believe that I possessed—I raised Maud in my arms. "We shall be saved, dearest; our prayers have been heard," I whispered. She opened her eyes, and seemed to comprehend me.

"We must make a signal, or the vessel may pass us," said Mr Norton. "Can you direct the natives to assist me? The broken spars, if lashed together, will answer for a flagstaff."

I explained what the young Englishman required, and Tofa and a few others, although scarcely able to lift themselves from the deck, secured the spars, and fastened them together as he desired. A piece of matting answered for a flag, and the flagstaff was held up on the deck.

How eagerly we watched the distant sail.

"She looks like a whaler, and if so, a bright look-out is certain to be kept on board," observed Mr Norton.

On she came. Unless our small flag was observed, as the deck of the canoe rose but a few feet above the water, should she pass only a mile or two on either side she might sail away without noticing us. We did not forget to pray that we might be seen. She came nearer and nearer. At length, to our joy, we saw a flag run up to her mast-head as an answer to our signal.

We were seen. Still the breeze was light, and the ship seemed to be a long time coming up to us.

Every moment was of consequence. I dreaded lest aid should come too late for dear Maud, while several others appeared unable to last much longer.

How often do we mistrust God's mercy. The vessel came close to us, and heaving-to, a boat was lowered.

"She is a whaler," exclaimed Mr Norton. "Water, water—bring water with you," he shouted; but his voice was faint and hollow, he pointed to his lips.

The sign was understood, for the boat put back, and a cask was lowered into it. In another minute, with sturdy strokes, the boat's crew dashed alongside. We heard the sound of English voices.

"You seem in a sad plight, my lad," said the officer of the boat. "We thought you were all savages. Are there any more of you on board?"

Mr Norton pointed to where Maud and I lay. The cask of water was lifted on deck, and the officer approached us with a cup. I begged him to give Maud some. He poured a few drops down her throat.

"Come, young lady, you must take some now," he said.

How delicious was that draught—it almost instantly revived me. I gave Maud some more, and then offered the cup to Abela. Those of the crew who could move crawled towards the cask. The young seaman poured it out from the cask into their hands, that they might obtain it sooner. I remember thinking it a fearful waste that any of the precious liquid should be spilled. Not till all the rest had received some water would Mr Norton take the cup which the mate offered him.

"Now, young ladies, the sooner we get you on board, where our captain and his good wife will look after you, the better," exclaimed the mate, as he offered to carry us to the boat. I begged that Abela might be brought with us. He lifted me up in his arms as if I had been a feather, and others followed, with Maud and Abela. Mr Norton had scarcely strength to reach the boat. I explained that Tofa was a chief's son, and that having rendered us great service, I begged that he might be treated with attention.

In a few minutes we were on board the "True Love," and in Captain Hudson's cabin, under the care of his kind motherly wife. She almost shed tears as she saw us; Maud especially excited her sympathy.

"Poor dear child, she could not have lasted another hour, and she now will require all the care we can bestow on her. And we must look after you too," she added, addressing me. "I wonder you have held out so well. You must tell me all about it by-and-by. You are too weak to talk now. I cannot get a word out of any one else—not even from the young Englishman. He fainted on reaching the deck, and my husband is attending to him; but you need not be alarmed, he will come round in time."

I inquired for Abela.

"The native woman is in one of the mate's cabins. I will go and attend to her directly, and all the rest who are alive are safe on board; but five or six of the poor Indians were dead, I am told, before they could be lifted from the deck of the canoe."

I grieved much to hear this, for I had entertained hopes that all when brought under Christian instruction would have accepted the truth; but God's ways are inscrutable—we only know that they are just and right.

Soon after Mrs Hudson had placed me in bed, I sank into a state of almost insensibility, and was conscious only that I was attended by a kind hand. I could neither speak nor think, and knew not to what place the ship was carrying us. My first inquiry on coming to myself, when I saw Mrs Hudson standing over me, was for dear Maud. My heart leaped with joy when I heard her voice saying, "I am here Mary—I am so very very glad to hear you speaking again." I found that she was lying on a sofa outside my cabin, to which Mrs Hudson said she had entreated to be brought, that she might be near me. Abela, I found was also recovering, and Mr Norton was well, and devoted himself to the care of the sufferers, some of whom were still in a precarious state.

"He is trying to learn their language, and the young prince is never weary in giving him instruction," said Mrs Hudson.

"They call Tofa the young prince, because the rest of his people pay him so much respect," observed Maud.

I was truly thankful to hear this of Mr Norton. I should have trembled for him, lest after getting safely on board the ship had he shown that he had forgotten his good resolutions.

"That young Englishman is a very superior person indeed," observed Mrs Hudson. "He has made inquiries about you and your sister every hour in the day, and I really believe had you been taken from us it would have broken his heart; he looked so anxious when I told him how ill you were. He constantly also speaks to our crew, and reads the Bible to them, and prays with them in the forecastle. They seem very well pleased to hear him, and though my husband has prayers every Sunday, he cannot go among them and talk to them in the familiar way this young man does. He tells me, though I am sure he is a gentleman born by his manners, that he has served before the mast, and therefore knows their habits and ways, and that there is nothing like being on an equality with people to win their hearts."

"Yes, that is what a missionary must be if he follows the example of his Master," I said. "Jesus made Himself equal to the poorest, and of no reputation, that He might gain souls to Himself."

"Ah yes, my dear young lady, if all ministers of the gospel as well as missionaries acted thus, His blessed religion would make more progress in the world than it now does."

In addition to my other causes of gratitude I thanked God that we had been taken on board a ship commanded by a believing captain, with a kind excellent wife. Through His mercy we were greatly indebted to Mrs Hudson's constant and affectionate care for our recovery.



CHAPTER TEN.

MAUD AND I WITH MOST OF OUR PARTY RECOVER.—MR NORTON INSTRUCTS THE CREW, AND PROVES THAT HE IS REALLY CONVERTED.—THE GREAT KINDNESS OF CAPTAIN AND MRS HUDSON.—THEY OFFER TO TAKE US TO ENGLAND, BUT WE RESOLVE TO REMAIN ON AN ISLAND INHABITED BY CHRISTIANS, ON WHICH WE LAND, THAT WE MAY DEVOTE OURSELVES TO MISSIONARY WORK.—MAUD IS RESTORED TO HER PARENTS.—CAPTAIN HUDSON, ON A SUBSEQUENT VOYAGE, BRINGS MY FATHER TO US, AND I, HAVING BECOME THE WIFE OF MR NORTON, WE RETURN TO OUR ISLAND, WHERE MASAUGU HAVING BECOME A CHRISTIAN, WITH LISELE AND HER HUSBAND, ARE RESIDING.—THE WHOLE OF THE INHABITANTS BEFORE MY FATHER'S DEATH BEING ALSO CONVERTED TO THE TRUTH.

We had been many days on board, and Maud and I were able to enjoy the fresh air on deck, where Captain Hudson warmly congratulated us, in his fatherly manner, on our recovery; arranging cushions on which we could recline—for we were still too weak to sit up—and kindly doing all he could for us. How glad we were again to see Abela and her companions, and to comfort them in their sorrow, for they believed that they should never again see their native land.

Young Tofa, however, was perfectly content. "I shall learn more about the religion of Jehovah, and that will be my support wherever I am," he observed.

Mr Norton came up and spoke to us so gently, and yet with unmistakable earnestness in his mariner. "Oh Miss Liddiard," he said, "I am now more than ever sure that our merciful Father in heaven hears the prayers of the greatest of sinners who have returned to Him. I have never ceased beseeching Him that you might be restored to health, and that while you may enjoy happiness yourself, you may prove a blessing to many of our fellow-creatures."

"I do indeed hope that I may be of use to some," I answered. "I desire no greater happiness than to be employed in God's service."

"Such will, I believe, be the occupation of the blessed throughout eternity, although He has not revealed to His creatures the way in which they are to be employed. That surpasses human comprehension," he observed.

A few days after this we came in sight of a high and picturesque island, even more beautiful than the one we had left.

"My dear young lady," said Captain Hudson, "I should be very sorry to part with you, and would gladly have carried you with me to old England, but the poor natives are, I am sure, anxious to be put on shore, and as an English missionary resides on yonder island, and all the inhabitants are Christians, I thought it best to go there to land those who desire to land. Will you and your sister remain with us? The ship's time in these seas will soon be up, and when we get to England our house shall be your home. We have no children of our own, and my wife and I will do our best to act the part of the parents you have lost."

My heart swelled with gratitude to the kind captain and his wife. I could scarcely speak. I had often thought of England, and how delightful it would be to see it, but I had resolved to devote myself, as my dear father and mother had done, in endeavouring to make known the gospel among the heathen islanders. I knew their language and customs, and felt that I was suited for the task. I was sure also that Maud would not consent to leave me; still, I did not wish to bias her should she desire to accept Captain and Mrs Hudson's offer. My eyes filled with tears as I took the captain's hand, and expressed my gratitude for his generous proposal. I told him the object on which my heart was set, and had it not been for that, how thankful I should have been to accept his offer. I then explained that Maud was not my sister, and gave him her history, adding, that she would indeed be fortunate to have such kind protectors as I was sure he and Mrs Hudson would prove.

"I will ask her," said the captain. "But I should like to have had you both."

I waited anxiously to hear what Maud would say, earnestly praying meantime that she would be directed aright. I had closed my eyes, when I felt Maud's arms round me. "I cannot, no I cannot leave you, dear Mary, where you go I will go," she whispered. "If you had said yes to the good captain I would gladly have accompanied you. If you remain out here I will remain also."

As we neared the harbour a canoe, manned by natives in white jackets and trousers and straw hats, came off. One of them, in good English, announced himself as a pilot, and under his charge the "True Love" was safely conducted into a secure and beautiful harbour, where her anchor was dropped. Neat white-washed houses lined the shore; beyond them rose several buildings of good size, the largest of which was a stone church with tower and belfry. Plantations extended on every side as far as the eye could reach. Everything wore an aspect of peace and contentment. How different from that of the heathen island we had left! Yet a short time before the numerous dark skinned natives, well clothed and in their right minds, were naked heathen savages, such as those among whom we had dwelt, and often despaired would ever be brought to know the truths of the gospel.

The boat was lowered, and Maud and I, with Mr Norton, Abela, and Tofa, were seated in her, accompanied by Captain and Mrs Hudson, on our way to the house of Mr Arnold, the missionary of which they had before spoken, and to whom, they had told us, they were well-known. On landing we proceeded along a well made clean road, at the further end of which, some way from the shore, stood Mr Arnold's house. How neat and beautiful it looked, with its garden full of flowering shrubs, and a broad verandah in front!

Mr Arnold came out to meet us, followed by his wife. A few words from Captain Hudson served to explain who we were.

"Indeed you are welcome, most welcome," he exclaimed, taking our hands. "We have enough and to spare, and there is work for all of you if, as I trust, you are willing to labour in the Lord's vineyard."

We were soon seated around the missionary's hospitable board, for Captain Hudson's ship was well-known, and Mrs Arnold had been preparing for the guests she was sure would come before they left the Pacific. She was an interesting looking lady, but there was an expression of sadness in her countenance, which at once struck me. Our host and hostess had, of course, many questions to ask, and we gave them an account of the dreadful events which had occurred to us. Captain Hudson told them of his wish to carry us on with him to England.

"We only desire to have willing labourers," observed Mr Arnold, "and they having counted the cost must decide for themselves. They have some experience what it is; and you, Mr Norton, do you intend to return home?" he asked.

"My desire is, the Lord helping me, to prepare myself for a missionary among the heathen islanders of these seas," he answered. "I have counted the cost, and with God's grace I hope not to turn back."

Mr Arnold warmly pressed his hand. "We will pray that His grace will ever continue with you," he said. I felt an infinite satisfaction at hearing this.

While the gentlemen went out to walk we remained with Mrs Arnold, who gave us much interesting information about their island, and her account raised my hopes that our own poor savages, as I called them, might some day enjoy the same inestimable blessings, and that smiling villages and churches and schools might appear throughout the island.

On Mr Arnold's return I saw that he was greatly agitated, and cast an eager inquiring glance at Maud. He advanced towards her, but seemingly restrained himself, and taking his wife by the hand, led her from the room.

During their absence Captain Hudson, sitting down by Maud, to my great surprise said, "Do you think, my dear, that the poor lady you supposed was your mother was really so?"

Maud started, then seemed lost in thought. "She was very, very kind to me, and I used to call her 'mamma,' because I had no other mamma then, but I have a faint idea that there was some one else whom I loved still better, and who had given me to her, saying, that we should meet again."

"Then I think there is no doubt it," exclaimed Captain Hudson. "Suppose you were to find your real father and mother, could you bear the joy of meeting them?" he asked.

Maud trembled all over, and I now began to suspect the truth. In a few minutes Mr and Mrs Arnold re-entered the room. I was surprised at the wonderful command which Mr Arnold had over himself. He placed his wife on a sofa, and then led Maud up to her.

"It may be that we are in error," he said, "but God's goodness is great, and such as this dear girl is might have been our child."

Mrs Arnold gazed at Maud's features for a few moments, then hastily took off her tippet. On her neck was a well-known mark which assured her that her hopes were realised. She drew her to her bosom and sobbed aloud.

We truly grieved to part with good Captain and Mrs Hudson, but we were to meet ere long again. Our heathen crew were soon distributed among the inhabitants, and all of them earnestly desired to be instructed in the truth. Tofa made rapid progress in his studies under Mr Arnold, and expressed his ardent wish to return as a missionary to his native land. Mrs Norton laboured devotedly as a catechist, and rendered the greatest service to Mr Arnold in his work, while Maud and I assisted Mrs Arnold in the girls' school, as we had been accustomed to do under my dear mother, while Abela was of great use among the older women.

Two years passed by, when it was announced that the "True Love" was once more entering the harbour. We hastened down to the landing-place to meet our kind old friend. We saw the boat coming with the captain and his wife and a gentleman with them. Captain Hudson assisted him to land. He gazed anxiously at us as we approached, then tottered towards me with arms outstretched.

My joy was full. He was my dear father. He had supposed we had all perished, till Captain Hudson, a short time before, had put in to visit Mr Hilton's station. His former faith had supported him through all his afflictions, and now, how full was his heart with gratitude at having me restored to him. I saw by his thin and wasted figure and pale countenance how much he required a daughter's care. He brought glorious intelligence from our island.

Masaugu had become a devoted Christian, and having made peace with his former foes, had, accompanied by Lisele, returned home, many of his people having also cast aside their idols.

I have not hitherto said that a short time before Mr Norton had asked me to become his wife. My father, hearing of his character from Mr Arnold, gave his full consent. Captain Hudson was bound in the direction of our island. With my devoted husband and father, accompanied by Abela and Tofa and several of our formerly heathen crew, we embarked on board the "True Love."

I could not have borne parting with Maud had I not known that she was left with loving parents, who would amply supply my place as my husband supplied hers in my heart.

I need not say how joyfully we were welcomed by Lisele and her Christian husband, the young chief. We had, notwithstanding, many difficulties to encounter. The heathens offered all the opposition in their power, but at length they were conquered,—not by force of arms, but by the power of gospel truth, and ere my dear father was laid beside my mother's grave, he had the happiness of seeing the once heathen inhabitants of our island, as also of many others in the Pacific, cast aside their idols and become faithful worshippers of Jehovah, trusting to the all-cleansing of the blood of the Lamb slain on Calvary for sinners.

FINIS.