finished his task when Mrs. Abel reappeared from the tent to announce
that the boy was sleeping and seemed much better after eating. Then
while they sat upon the rocks and ate their own belated dinner of boiled
cod and tea, Abel told the story of his discovery.

"What do you suppose killed the man?" Mrs. Abel asked.

"I do not know," said Abel. "It looks like a gunshot wound but I have
not searched for a gun yet. It is a fine boat, and did not belong to a
schooner. I never saw a boat like it and I never saw so fine a boat
before. The man was not a fisherman, either."

"The boy's clothing is finer than any I ever saw," declared Mrs. Abel.
"It is not like any I ever saw and is finer and prettier than the
missionaries' children wear and on one of his fingers there is a
beautiful ring."

"I cannot get it through my head where the boat came from," said Abel.

"It was God's messenger, and His way of sending us the boy," asserted
Mrs. Abel. "He sent the boat with the boy out of the farthest mists of
the sea, from the place where storms are born, and He sent the boat on a
clear day, when we could see it, and He kept you near the boat when you
would have gone away, until the boy cried. God meant that we should have
a child."

"Yes," agreed Abel. "It was God's way of giving us a child for our own.
But why did He send a man with the boy and a dead man, at that?"

"I do not know," said Mrs. Abel, "but there was some reason, I suppose.