beatin' and roarin' and onearthly screechin' all round, and take that
child from its dead mother's breast, and vow to the Lord, as helped
in savin' it, to do as should be done by it? Has she prayed, and
worked, and sweat, and laid awake nights, for fear that child's
fingers should ache, this ten years past? Has she--" the old man's
voice, which had been ringing out like a trumpet, broke off suddenly.
The angry fire died out of his blue eyes, and he bowed his head
humbly. "I ask yer pardon, Minister!" he said, quietly, after a pause.
"I humbly ask yer pardon. I had forgotten the Lord, ye see, for all
I was talkin' about Him so glib. I was takin' my view, and forgettin'
that the Lord had His. _He_ takes things by and large, and nat'rally
He takes 'em larger than mortal man kin do. Amen! so be it!" He took
off his battered hat, and stood motionless for a few moments, with
bent head: nor was his the only silent prayer that went up from the
little gray beach to the gray heaven above.

"Well, Minister," he said, presently, in a calm and even cheerful
voice, "and so that bein' all clear to your mind, the lady have sent
you to take my--to take her niece--the little lady (and a lady she
were from her cradle) back to her. Is that the way it stands?"

"Oh, no! no indeed!" cried the kind old minister. "Mrs. Morton would
do nothing so cruel as that, Captain January. She is very
kind-hearted, and fully appreciates all that you have done for the
little girl. But she naturally wants to see the child, and to do
whatever is for her best advantage."

"For the child's advantage. That's it!" repeated Captain January.
"That's somethin' to hold on by. Go on, Minister!"