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his hard features settled into their fixed expression of determined daring.
    The men gave place as he forced his way up the hatchway. On he went, stamping along the deck as if he ground an enemy beneath his heel at every step.

CHAPTER XV.
    A LETTER
    Blair would gladly have chosen another time and place for the composition of the difficult letter he was called on to write, but he felt compelled to fulfil his promise at once. The men passed by him in silence, save the single remark of Brimstone, “Give my love to your sweet mother,” delivered in an insulting tone, and with a laugh more repulsive than the hiss of a snake.
    Blair glanced anxiously in the direction where Derry had disappeared, almost fearing to see that clenched hand coming forth to do its threatened work of vengeance. But Derry was already far away, and Brimstone joined his mess-mates without receiving a word or sign of rebuke.
    Blair took up his pen with a silent prayer that it might be guided by Him without whose aid vain are the most eloquent words of the wisest counsellor. His letter was as follows:
    â€œDear —— I don’t know your name, but your father is my friend, and of course I feel interested in you for his sake. He has been very kind to me, and it is a great pleasure to me to do any thing for him. He has been talking to me of you, and while he has gone on deck he wants me to write to you. How he loves you. You are the bright spot to him in life, his oasis in the desert of this weary world. When he is far out on the wide sea, your face comes up before him, and makes the loneliest place a home. He loves to think that you pray for him. He feels that he needs your prayers. Happy are the fathers who, plunged in earthly cares on sea and land, have children to fold their hands and lift their hearts in prayer for them. This is all you can do for your absent father. Though you could give him crowns and kingdoms, wealth and honor, they would not be worth as much as one earnest, faithful, importunate prayer in Jesus’ name. That name is all-powerful, and must prevail . Your father calls you his ‘little flower.’ He wants his little flower to be pure and modest and simple, like the lily, which all may consider and see in it the handiwork of God. Only God, who made this beautiful world, can purify and cleanse our souls and help us to walk in his holy ways. I know that you have been taught all this by the kind friends who have watched over you from infancy. Your father wants you to give good heed to their counsel, and ever watch and pray and struggle against temptation. No blow could fall on him so sore as to know his little darling was walking in the wrong path. May you never so grieve his fond heart. Again I must tell you, though you have read it in his repeated caresses, how your father loves you. May you be to him that best of treasures, a prayerful, pious daughter, is the sincere wish of
    â€œYour father’s friend,
    â€œBlair Robertson.”
    Blair folded his letter, and then addressing a few lines to his mother, he inclosed the two in a single envelope, and sought out Derry for further directions. Derry was pacing up and down the deck, making the boards ring with his heavy tread.
    â€œShall I read you what I have written?” said Blair, laying his hand on Derry’s shoulder.
    Derry started as if in a dream; but recollecting himself, he said quickly, “Yes, yes. Here, here in the moonlight. No one will listen here.”
    The light of the full moon fell on the open letter, and Blair read it without difficulty.
    â€œThat’s it, that’s it. Every word of it true,” said Derry in a voice trembling with feeling. “It would kill me to think of her going wrong. But she wont. Her way is up , and mine is down, down, down . Give me the letter; I’ll put the right name on it. You don’t mind my seeing what goes to your mother. That’s no more than fair. I tell you I don’t like