"No! For God's sake, don't think that!" said the captain, in a solemn
way; "I bring no good tidings of him."
There was a silence, and the mother turned her face to the fire and put
her hand between it and her eyes. The young fisherman slightly motioned
toward the window, and the captain, looking in that direction, saw a
young widow, sitting at a neighbouring window across a little garden,
engaged in needlework, with a young child sleeping on her bosom. The
silence continued until the captain asked of Alfred,--
"How long is it since it happened?"
"He shipped for his last voyage better than three years ago."
"Ship struck upon some reef or rock, as I take it," said the captain,
"and all hands lost?"
"Yes."
"Wa'al!" said the captain, after a shorter silence, "Here I sit who may
come to the same end, like enough. He holds the seas in the hollow of
His hand. We must all strike somewhere and go down. Our comfort, then,
for ourselves and one another is to have done our duty. I'd wager your
brother did his!"
"He did!" answered the young fisherman. "If ever man strove faithfully
on all occasions to do his duty, my brother did.
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