I 
 
 li 

 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 

 
 Mr 
 
 /
 
 AFXT NA OMT -Pajre *.
 
 fS Him 
 
 BY MARGARET E. WILMER. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 OP 1 fTLTBT.ICATIOTST, R. C. -A.., 
 34 "Vesey Street. 
 
 1871.
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1371, 
 
 BY WILLIAM FERRIS, AGKNT. 
 In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 flOSPORD A FON, Prtotsa, 
 66 Cd*r Street, X. T.
 
 FZ7 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 2 THE folio-wing narrative is designed to teach a two- 
 * fold lesson: First, it illustrates the fact that, withowt 
 a living and developed Christianity, a person may 
 W possess cultivation of intellect, polish of manners, and 
 { ^ every other pleasing and desirable attainment, and yet 
 ' utterly fail in securing true peace of mind and happi- 
 ness. His life may be as useless to his fellow-beings 
 ^ as it is unsatisfacto: y to himself. He will have no 
 ^*L power to exert over others any real or personal inilu- 
 W ence for good. At the same time, it shows that the 
 humblest and most ignorant in worldly things, if but 
 possessed of a true faith in Christ, may be endowed 
 with a heavenly visdom, and a power from on high, 
 
 8* which shall make them " mighty in word and deed." 
 In the second place, it serves to show the importance of 
 ^ the Sunday School, as an agent for the diffusion of 
 O Christianity and civilization among the rudest, and a 
 means not only of enlisting the children upon the Bide 
 I* of gospel truth, but also of teaching, through those 
 tj children, the hearts of grown people who often resist 
 < the efforts made in other ways to convince them of the 
 perilous state of their souls, and to win them over to 
 Christ. 
 
 (3)
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 Chapter. Page. 
 
 I. The Shipwreck 7 
 
 II. New Lives of Marianna and her Grandfather 21 
 
 III. How One was made happy, and another made 
 
 himself wretched 35 
 
 IV. A Stranger introduced, and how he got.into 
 
 Trouble 51 
 
 V. Hugh's Story. Marianna is sent with an 
 
 unpleasant Message 73 
 
 VI. Marianna obeys her Grandfather's Commands. 
 Lieutenant Ferrand makes a terrible 
 Mistake. Conversation between Hugh 
 
 and Marianna 91 
 
 VII. Lieutenant Ferrand discovers his Mistake. 
 He visits Von Ulden's Island. Hugh 
 
 leaves the Wrecker Settlement 121 
 
 VIII. Hugh disappears. Terrible Storm and 
 Wreck of a Steamer. Lieutenant Fer- 
 rand and Marianna find great Treasures 
 
 in the Ocean 153 
 
 (5)
 
 C, CONTENTS. 
 
 Ch.pter. P ^ 
 
 IX. After the Storm. Blanche Ferrand discovers 
 that her Husband is a Wrecker. Pleas- 
 ant Changes take place in Marianna's 
 
 Home 173 
 
 X. How Mrs. Ferrand, Bessie, and Marianna 
 lived together on the Island. What 
 Blanche and Marianna talked of. There 
 
 comes still another Change 205 
 
 XL The effects of his Loss upon Lieutenant Fer- 
 rand. Marianna and Be?sie as Com- 
 prmions. Bessie is deprived of her other 
 
 Parent 237 
 
 XII. A Time of Mourning in the Wreckers' Settle- 
 ment. Xew Ideas are introduced among 
 the Women. Mariarma begins the; great 
 
 Work of her Life 261 
 
 XIIL Von Ulden in the Sunday Fchool. The Re- 
 sult of Hugh's Journey i \ 1 elmlf of 
 Lieutenant Ferrand. The Prisoner's 
 Experience. Death of Von Ulden. 
 Conclusion . . . . 305
 
 THE 
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 THE SHIPWRECK. 
 
 frivjWAYBEEAK, upon the coast of Flor-. 
 
 **F?^ ida, showed a two-masted, vessel, or 
 **' ^ "schooner," 1 driven before a heavy 
 gale, and tossed upon tlie waves of a boister- 
 ous sea. The only persons on board of this 
 vessel were its owner, .Richard Von Ulden, 
 his son, his little grand-daughter, her mu- 
 latto nurse, and a boy who did the roughest 
 of the work. Marianna, the little girl, was 
 but three years old. Several months before, 
 she had the sad misfortune to lose her moth-
 
 \\KKCKKli S (iRANIM'IIILI). 
 
 or, and :hed tears over a great, and never-to- 
 be - forgotten sorrow. Her grand - father, 
 "UVIiard Von Vlden, was one whose whole 
 history would add ninch to the interei-t 
 of this narrative, if we could spare the 
 space for it. From childhood, it had been 
 his principal aim, to take every possible ad- 
 vantage of his fellow-beings, and to gain for 
 himself all that he could, even if others had 
 to suffer. AVhen a boy, his greatest delight 
 was in winning marbles, or in taking pen- 
 nies and sweetmeats from other children, if 
 they happened to be younger and weaker 
 than himself: while, towards those who 
 were as strong as he was, he employed 
 trickery and cheating to gain from them 
 what he coveted, lie grew up to be a self- 
 ish, unprincipled man. lie tried a variety 
 of speculations, was successful, and made a 
 great deal of money, but he forfeited the
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 9 
 
 good opinion and confidence of all who 
 knew him. At length, in consequence of 
 breaking the laws of the United States, a 
 very fine vessel, which he owned, was taken 
 from him, and sold. This was a heavy loss, 
 for which no one pitied him ; and this addi- 
 tional vexation made him so angry that he 
 resolved to leave his country and go to live 
 in Cuba. Tie requested his son, Marianna's 
 father, to accompany him, and the young- 
 man consented. It must not be supposed 
 however from this circumstance, that young- 
 Yon Uldeii was like his father, in character 
 or purpose, lie was a steady, industrious, 
 upright man. Instead of being ruined by 
 his father's example, he had the good sense 
 to learn from it that oft-repeated, yet oft- 
 forgotten lesson, that there is no policy so 
 truly shrewd and wise, and so much to one's- 
 ad vantage as that of honesty.
 
 lu WRECKER'S ^RAND-CHILD. 
 
 The Von Fldens were soon upon tlicir 
 way to Cuba, in a vessel belonging to the 
 old m:in, who, because he had once been a 
 sea captain, insisted that he was able to 
 serve as pilot, during the voyage. FcolMi, 
 obstinate man ! In more important matters, 
 this had been his great mistake. He had 
 rejected Jesns, the heavenly Pilot, who conld 
 have guided him with unerring safety, and 
 had determined to steer his own course 
 through life. 
 
 There lie st< ><>.!. grasping the helm, and 
 looking, with desperate obstinacy, straight 
 ahead, while his vessel staggered and shook 
 bofbiv the biitietings of the storm. His 
 head was uncovered, his busby, gray hair 
 and In-ard were dishevelled by the gale; 
 his lips iirmly compressed, and his fiery, 
 blood-snot eyes almost hidden by their over- 
 hanging brows.
 
 WRECKER'S <;KANIM.;IIILD. II 
 
 Young Von Vlden, and John, tlie l>oy, 
 did all tliey could in managing the vessel, 
 and their pale, anxious faces showed that 
 they knew the greatness of the impending 
 danger. Little Marianna with her nurse 
 was below, in the cabin, and the thoughts 
 of her father dwelt almost entirely upon his 
 helpless child. 
 
 Presently, a heavy sea dashed over the 
 vessel, and swept young Yon I'ldeii and 
 John from the deck into the ocean ! Mari- 
 anna's father uttered one cry to his Maker, 
 and then, with the poor, friendless lad who 
 shared his fate, disappeared forever, amidst 
 the roaring waves. 
 
 A groan burst from the old man's lips, 
 and his hands, relaxing their hold of the 
 helm, fell helpless by his sides. 
 
 At this moment, a sunken rock pierced 
 the vessel's hull, and the water, rushing into
 
 12 WBECKER'C 
 
 the cabin, compelled the colored woman, 
 Naomi, to hasten upon deck, with little Ma- 
 rianna 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Yon Ulden, the vessel has 
 struck!" exclaimed Naomi, "hut where is 
 "Master George? Where is Johnny?" 
 
 "Ask that sea!" shouted the old man, 
 turning his fierce and haggard countenance 
 upon her, and pointing, with quivering fin- 
 ger, to the billows amidst which his son and 
 the boy had disappeared. 
 
 Overcome with horror and grief, Naomi 
 threw herself upon the deck, where, indeed, 
 it would have been difficult to stand up- 
 right, on account of the roc-king and plung- 
 ing of the vessel. Von T'lden took no no- 
 tice of her emotion, but fixed his eves upon 
 little Marianna. She was now the only 
 creature upon earth who.-e safety he cared
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 13 
 
 for, or whom lie could expect to cherish any 
 affection for him. 
 
 At one time, while with her nurse, below, 
 in the cabin, she was very much frightened 
 by the violence of the storm, the tossing of 
 the vessel and the agitation which she no- 
 ticed in all the persons on board. Xest- 
 ling close to Naomi, and looking up in her 
 face, she said, " My papa can save us ; can't 
 he?" 
 
 " My dear child," answered Naomi, as she 
 pressed her to her bosom, " your papa will 
 do all he can ; but, if we are saved, it will 
 not be by him." 
 
 " Then it will be Gran'papa that will take 
 us all on shore," questioned Mariaima. 
 
 " The only one that can bring us safely on 
 shore," answered Naomi, " is our Father in 
 Heaven, whom you pray to every night and 
 
 2
 
 1-i WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 morning. If we want to be safe,-now, or 
 any other time, we must look to God" 
 
 These words were spoken very earnestly, 
 and they made a deep impression on the in- 
 fant mind of Marianna, for she knew that 
 her good nurse never deceived her. Thence- 
 forth, she was <juiet, and, taking Xaomi's ad- 
 vice to "look to God," in the literal sense, 
 she kept her eyes raised towards Heaven, 
 where she knew that her Divine Father 
 dwelt. 
 
 When the waves ourst into the cabin, 
 and Xaomi with her little charge fled to 
 the deck, Marianna cast a hurried glance 
 around, in the expectation of seeing her 
 father, unconscious that she was now an 
 orphan. Xaomi's sinking down upon the 
 deck, as we have described, left the child 
 entirely to herself, for a time, and she saw 
 no way ot safety, except by following to
 
 WRECKER'S GRAXIM^IIILD. 15 
 
 the best <;f her understanding the advice 
 which had been given her. Instinctively, she 
 dropped upon her knees, and put her hands 
 together, as she did when she said lier 
 prayers. As we have mentioned, it was just 
 day-break, and she still wore her white 
 night-dress, while her long, fair hair, half un- 
 curled by the salt spray that was sprinkled 
 over it, hung loosely down her back. 
 
 She did not look at the huge waves that 
 hurried foaming and roaring, to dash them- 
 selves upon the trembling vessel; she did 
 not look at the torn sails and bending masts, 
 nor at the sharp rocks amidst which the 
 schooner Avas driven. She dreaded to look 
 anywhere except "to God'^ and although 
 but a little child of three years old, who can 
 doubt that that upward gaze was directcYl 
 by a real faith. It was towards a clouded 
 mid stormy sky that Marianna gazed, but
 
 Iti WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 she fully believed that above that sky dwelt 
 the good and great Being, who was now 
 looking down at her, and who knew the 
 confidence that she placed in Him. 
 
 Hark, that sudden crash ! One of the 
 masts lias snapped off, and fallen across the 
 deck, missing but little of striking Xaoini, 
 who starts half up, and clasps Marianna in 
 her arms. Seeing that the vessel is going 
 to pieces, Yon Ulden also hurries to Mari- 
 anna, and, with sonic broken ropes, binds 
 both her and her nurse securely to the 
 fallen mast. There is a yet more fearful 
 crash, as the shattered wreck is hurled upon 
 the beach. Now, even the sky is hidden 
 from Marianna by the breakers that dash 
 over her; and her eyes, which she has 
 persistently kept uplifted, amidst so many 
 dangers and horrors, are forced to close- in 
 blank unconsciousness.
 
 WRECKER 8 GRAND-CHILD. IT 
 
 But He to whom Marianna had looked so 
 trustingly, was watching over her, with ten- 
 der love, and it was not long before she 
 again opened her eyes, and found herself 
 yet in this world. She lay upon a clean 
 though coarse bed, in the principal room of 
 a cottage} not far from the beach. The floor 
 was bare, the furniture very plain, and round 
 the walls hung fishing-nets, lanterns, coils of 
 rope, and various things that had belonged 
 to foundered vessels. Two or three women 
 were bending anxiously over Mariaima, and 
 when she revived and looked around, ex- 
 clamations of joy broke from their lips. 
 Naomi lay. upon some bed-clothing spread 
 on the floor, for she was still insensible from 
 the effects of the cuts and bruises which she 
 had received, while clasping little Marian na, 
 so as to shield her with her own body from 
 receiving any injury.
 
 18 WRECKER'S GRAXIWHILD. 
 
 The mistress of the cottage gave Marianna 
 a warm kiss, accompanied with the words. 
 " So, my pretty lamb, you are sale, at la.-t !" 
 
 "Yes, ma'am," answered the child, with 
 all the simplicity of her age, "I kept looking 
 up to God, as long as I could keep my eyes 
 open. " 
 
 The three women stared at Marianna, and 
 then at each other, with an expression of won- 
 der, not ummixed with aw. It was rarely 
 indeed that they heard pious words, even from 
 the lips of grown people, and still less did they 
 expect to hear them from a little child. 
 
 " I'm afraid she wont live, after all." mur- 
 mured the oldest of the women, as she shook 
 her head, with a melancholy expression. 
 Marianna's next words were, u Where is my 
 papa ?" "Your /y/vzW-papa, you mean, my 
 dove," answered the mistress of the cottage. 
 " He was the only one who came to shore a! i vc,
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 19 
 
 'sides you and your nurse, and lie's getting 
 along finely ;-only lie's swallowed so much 
 salt water. He'll be mighty glad to see you 
 doing so well, pretty chick !" 
 
 Marianna considered for a moment or two, 
 and then burst into tears, for, young as she 
 was, she now saw the truth, that she was fath- 
 erless, as well as motherless. 
 
 Two of the womeii'now turned their atten- 
 tion to Naomi, who was presently restored to 
 consciousness, though still in a weak and suf- 
 fering state. The first movement she made 
 was to clasp her arms over her bosom, as 
 though she held something in them, but, find- 
 ing that her nursling was no longer in her 
 embrace, she opened her eyes, and gazing 
 wildly around, exclaimed, " Where is my 
 precious child ?" 
 
 " Here, Aunt Naomi," cried Marianna r 
 springing from her bed, and throwing her
 
 20 
 
 WBKCKKB S GKAND-CHILD. 
 
 arms around her nurse's neck. Tears of 
 gladness streamed down Xaomi's cheeks, as, 
 sinking back, slie ejaculated, " Then, Lord> 
 lit me live or die, just as it is thy will !"
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE NEW LIVES OF MARIANNA AND HER 
 GR ANDF ATII ER. 
 
 the time of which we are writing, 
 jjp that part of the coast of Florida on 
 which Yon Ulden, his grand-child, 
 and her nnrse, had been cast, was inhabited 
 almost entirely by a kind of people called 
 *' wreckers," who made a business of secu- 
 ring for themselves everything of the slight- 
 est value which could be saved from the 
 wrecks that frequently occurred upon their 
 " sea beat shore." Such an occupation was, 
 not of course, regulated by the rules of hon- 
 esty, and often led those who followed it to 
 commit the most barbarous acts ; so that 
 it is needless to say they were a very har- 
 dened, unprincipled class of people.
 
 22 WRECKER'S ^RAND-CHILI). 
 
 "When some of these men came to the 
 beach, to see what they could get from the 
 wreck of Von Ulden's vessel, two of them 
 were accompanied by their wives, who usually 
 assisted in gathering up the spoils. But, no 
 sooner did the women see the insensible form 
 of Marianna, as she and her nurse, still clasp- 
 ing each other, lay upon the wet sand, than 
 their rugged hearts were softened by pity. 
 
 Yon Ulden lay close by, also insensible, 
 and the wife of the wrecker who lived nearest 
 to this spot, insisted that the child, the nurse, 
 and the old man, should all be carried to her 
 cottage. Her husband made no objection, as 
 he had secured for himself Von Ulden's gold 
 watch, and two. sea-chests full of clothing; 
 and, even if the owner had known which of 
 the wreckers had taken this property there 
 were no means of compelling its restoration. 
 The plunderers supposed that Von Ulden's
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 money- must have have been lost in the sea, 
 but this was a mistake, as he had a con- 
 siderable sum safely hidden away in the li- 
 
 mncrs of the clothes which he then had on. 
 
 & 
 
 When Yon Uldeii first recovered from the 
 effects of his late accident, he was unable to 
 make up his mind where he should go, or 
 what he should do. As he took notice of the 
 wreckers, and the spoils they had collected,, 
 the idea came into his mind that he could 
 not find any occupation which would suit 
 him better than to remain w T here he was, and 
 become a wrecker himself. Poor Marianna 
 was too young to understand any thing of 
 the nature of her grandfather's resolution, or 
 of the trouble which, at a future day, it was 
 to cause them both. 
 
 Upon a small island, close to the coast, 
 there stood a half ruined cottage, which the 
 ignorant people in that vicinity supposed to
 
 24 WKIOCKKK'S <;KAxi>-rniLr>. 
 
 l)e " haunted." V<m Ulden, however, very 
 truly observed that there was no danger of 
 liis seeing there any worse spirit than him- 
 self. Tie had the cottage enlarged and re- 
 paired, after purchasing it, for a trifling sum, 
 from a man who claimed to he its owner ; 
 and this place was for many years the home 
 of Marianna. 
 
 Yon Ulden provided himself with boats 
 and other apparatus, superior to anything 
 owned by the other wreckers, and hired two 
 or three men to assist him in gathering a 
 large share of booty from the wrecks which 
 occurred. This soon excited the jealousy 
 of the other wreckers ; but Von. Ulden paci- 
 fied them by making liberal presents to them 
 and their families, and by treating them fre- 
 quently to spirituous liquors. 
 
 At length he proposed that they should 
 form a company, or association, to share
 
 WRECKER'S <;IIANI>-CHILP. 25 
 
 equally all the labors, the dangers, and the 
 profits of their business. This was accord- 
 ingly done, and Von Ulden was appointed 
 the head and director of all the other 
 wreckers, who were accustomed, jokingly, to 
 term him "the Commodore." Here, then, 
 he had everything that he wished for ; and 
 we cannot say that his conscience troubled 
 him, for it was daily becoming more and 
 more hardened. 
 
 But what satisfaction, what peace of mind, 
 did he enjoy ? Around him were men 
 whom he incited to seize the property of 
 others, and whom he even encouraged to 
 take human life, rather than give up their 
 ill-gotten booty. 
 
 How could he feel certain that, some time, 
 
 they might not rob and murder him ? By 
 
 night and by day, he always kept a pistol 
 
 convenient to his hand, and, when the other 
 
 3
 
 ZU WKK< KKK S <;KAM-rinr,T). 
 
 wreckers, were near him, lie frequently rolled 
 liis eyes around with a look full of suspicion 
 and restlessness. 
 
 It is strange how tar apart the lives of 
 Marianna and her grandfather seemed to be, 
 thongll living beneath the same roof! In 
 the little girl's eyes, their new home was 
 beautiful and pleasant. The house was a 
 two story frame building, with two rooms on 
 a floor, separated bv a broad hall-way. On 
 one side of the lower hall was a room in 
 which Von Ulden was accustomed to receive 
 the other wreckers, and to Settle his accounts. 
 with them. Here, there was verv little of 
 ordinary furniture, but quite an assortment 
 of wooden chests, piles of saiU ropes, and 
 other things gathered from wrecks. On the 
 opposite side of the hall was the sitting-room, 
 a large and airy apartment, with the floor 
 covered with white and red matting. The
 
 WKKCKKli S QRAN1MJHILD. '2 < 
 
 mantel-shelf and tables were adorned with 
 beautiful shells, corals, dried sea-plants, and 
 many other curious and pretty things, which 
 had been given to Marianna by her grand- 
 father, or by the wives of the wreckers. One 
 of the apartments up stairs was the sleeping- 
 room of Von Ulden, where he kept the most 
 valuable part of his plunder, carefully locked 
 up. The other was the bed-chamber of Mar- 
 ianna and her nurse. 
 
 A white servant woman slept in a room 
 over the kitchen, which was in a small build- 
 ing separate from the main dwelling, accord- 
 ing to a common custom in the South. At- 
 tached to the house was a garden, nearly 
 filled with orange trees, now growing wild 
 and untended, yet showing many a tempt- 
 ing golden-tinted globe, suspended amidst 
 their dark green leaves. 
 
 A cluster of these orange trees, entwined
 
 WKECKKK S (;IZAM-C: 
 
 with flowering vines, firmed a charming lit- 
 tle bower, where Marianna sat and played. 
 She was generally alone, while amusing her- 
 self, for her grand-father wished her to be 
 brought up a lady, and would rarely allow 
 her to have anything to say to the rude and 
 ignorant children of the wreckers. ]'r.t she 
 had pet birds and squirrels, and played with 
 them so often that she and they seemed quite 
 to understand each other's language. 
 
 Sometimes, Marianna would gather dif- 
 ferent kinds of fruit, and give a feast to her 
 pets, in the orange tree bower. Her table 
 was a flat moss-covered stone; her dishes 
 were acorn-cups, and pink and white shells. 
 which she picked up on the beach. All her 
 play-things were gathered from Nature's 
 great store house. 
 
 liarianna's education began by Xaomi's 
 teaching her how to read, which was as far
 
 WliK'/KKuV GRAND-CHILI). 29 
 
 as her own knowledge extended. To this, 
 Von Ulden added his instructions in writing 
 and arithmetic, for he knew that Marianna 
 could not claim any superiority over the 
 children of the wreckers, if she was no more 
 intelligent than they were. Bnt, by far the 
 most impoitant knowledge which Marianna 
 ever possessed was conveyed by Naomi ; for 
 she alone gave to the little island girl that 
 religions instruction which my young readers 
 receive from parents, Sunday-school teachers, 
 and pastors. Every day Marianna and her 
 imrse read the Bible together, especially the 
 New Testament, and many a long and earn- 
 est conversation did thev hold concernin<r 
 
 / o 
 
 those grand and wonderful truths : 
 
 "How pjuililcfs blood for >T.ilty mr.n w;.s .'lied, 
 How ho who bore in Heaven the second r.;:rno 
 Had not on earth the whereto l.':y his head; 
 How his iirst followers and servs.nts f-pcd; 
 The preeepts sa<re they wrote to many a land ;
 
 30 WKKCKKIl's (rK VXD-CHILD. 
 
 How he who lone in Patmos banished, 
 
 Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand, 
 
 And heard great Babylon's doom pronounced by- 
 Heaven's command." 
 
 Often, Marianna would address t) her 
 grandfather some artless remarks, that were 
 like gall and wormwood to a soul BO wrap- 
 ped up in sin. While she was a small child, 
 Von. Ulden heard these remarks in gloomy 
 silence, or turned the conversation to some 
 other subject ; but as she grew older, he be- 
 came more impatient upon such occasions. 
 One afternoon, she was sitting at her grand- 
 father's feet, engaged in tying up bundles of 
 richly colored wild riowers which she had 
 gathered upon the island. Von I'lden had 
 a book in his hand, but >ooii threw it down, 
 with a sort of groaning yawn that showed 
 how hard it was for him to be amused or 
 s.itistied. 
 
 "Grandpapa," said Marianna, suddenly
 
 WBECKKR'S (iRAxn-cniLr. 81 
 
 looking up into his face, " I never see yon 
 read the Bible ! Sha'nt I get it, and read to 
 you about Jesus, and what lie did for us f 
 
 The hardened old man glared upon his in- 
 nocent grand child like a wild beast that has 
 just felt the cut of the keeper's whip. 
 
 " JVW was his harsh and angry reply, U I 
 don't want to hear about anything of the 
 kind. It must be old Xaomi that fills your 
 head with such stuff, and if there was any- 
 body else here, that could take such good 
 care of you, I'd send her away for putting 
 you up to torment me in this fashion !" 
 
 The child grew pale and trembled at her 
 grandfather's look, and, while the tears began 
 to flow down her cheeks, she exclaimed, a Oh 
 grandpapa, don't be angry with Naomi, and 
 I'll never talk to you so again !" 
 
 " See that you don't then," w r as Yon Ul- 
 den's sharp retort.
 
 32 WKKCKKR'S OKANIM-TIILD. 
 
 Marianna did not dare to speak again to 
 him upon such subjects, but she often thought 
 of the strangeness of her grandfather's con- 
 duct, and it seemed to her more and more 
 mysterious. 
 
 Xaomi was indeed, the only person with 
 whom Marianna could talk freely, and as the 
 little girl grew older, she began to make fre- 
 quent inquiries about her nurse's former 
 history. Having been told by Xaomi that 
 she had once been a slave, Marianna inquired, 
 "I low long since you were set free, aunt 
 Xaomi '." 
 
 "It's been about fifteen years ago that Mr. 
 Thompson, my Georgia master, gave me my 
 freedom,'' said Xaomi. " But, dear child, I 
 wa> set free long before //<//. Even while 
 people thought me nothing but a poor slave, 
 the Truth had made me free, and the great 
 King of ( ilory adopted me for his own child J
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 66 
 
 My husband and all my children were sold, 
 one here, one there, but all to far-off 
 places, so that I shall never, never meet 
 them again, until these eyes open upon the 
 light of Heaven. But no one could sell my 
 Saviour away from me ! He has been with 
 me always, though I can't see Him now, for 
 the veil of mortality that's over my face, but 
 when T do see him, at last, I shall see my 
 husband and children too !"
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 HOW ONE WAS MADE HAPPY, AND ANOTHER 
 MADE HIMSELF WRETCHED. 
 
 _. 
 
 pHE passing away of ten years, from the 
 time that they were first ship-wreck- 
 ed upon the Florida coast, brought 
 about far greater changes in Marianna, her 
 grandfather and her nurse, than in any of the 
 objects around them. Marianna was now 
 thirteen years old, and, though the wreckers 
 and their families often saw the island giri, 
 they always gazed upon her with that wonder- 
 ing reverence which they might have felt 
 upon seeing a spirit from the dwelling place 
 of the blessed. Her hair, (which she still 
 continued to wear in those long and beautiful 
 curls that nature had arranged.) was of rather 
 
 35
 
 ;;> WriKCKKu's UKAMM'IIILI). 
 
 a light brown color; her eyes were very dark. 
 
 There was an earnestness, an intensity of ex- 
 pression nothing less than thrilling to the 
 beholder. Her delicate features lighted up 
 with a look so noble, so refined and pure, 
 that the proudest princess on earth could 
 hardly have dared to assume any airs of 
 superiority towards her, in the simple dress 
 of light colored " print," or lawn, which she 
 usually wore. Already, she took the over- 
 sight of the household affairs, and was very 
 expert in the use of her needle, for she was 
 one of those amiable yet energetic characters 
 that never need any driving or urging to 
 make them useful. 
 
 Xaomi was an elderly woman at the time 
 when we began our narrative, and the ad- 
 dition of ten years made her quite feeble. 
 She herself saw plainly that her health was 
 failing, and, in talking with Marianna, she
 
 WKK< KKK S (, K A MM ' I! I LI). o< 
 
 often endeavored to prepare her for the sep- 
 aration that must soon take place. Marianna 
 only answered by her tears, and by redoub- 
 ling her care and attention to her nurse's 
 comfort, while she remained with her. 
 
 Every clear afternoon, Naomi would take 
 her Bible in one hand, and in the other, the 
 stick she used in walking, and go to a vener- 
 able orange tree, that for fifty years had con- 
 tinued to scatter its fragrant blossoms, and 
 bear its sweet, refreshing fruit. 
 
 Here, within sight of the ocean, she would 
 sit, and read, and meditate, until night drew 
 near. 
 
 One day, when she seemed unusually 
 feeble, Marianna assisted her to reach this 
 favorite spot, and then returned home to see 
 that her grandfather's supper was prepared 
 and served. When the sun was about to set, 
 she hastened back, to assist Naomi inreturn- 
 4 
 
 452664
 
 38 WRECKER'S (;RAM>-< IIILD. 
 
 ing t<> the house. She sat leaning against 
 tlie orange tree, with the Bible in her lap, 
 open at the :Mst elia]>ter of Revelations, in 
 v/hich she had been reading a description of 
 the city that is made of gold, and pearl, Mid 
 all manner of precious stones. In thinking 
 over. this description, she had raised her eyes 
 from the book, and, looking across the sea, 
 at the western sky, she saw there a glorious 
 picture, formed by the sunset clouds, that 
 seemed like the golden palaces, and rainbow 
 colored hills, of the heavenly land of which 
 she was meditating. And, as she thus gazed, 
 her spirit passed quickly overland and ocean, 
 and through those glowing clouds, and en- 
 tered the city of her King ! 
 
 The placid look, and unclosed eyes of her 
 nurse, prevented Marianna, at first, from 
 seeing what had happened. She came near. 
 and spoke to Kaomi. Surprised at receiving
 
 AVRKCKKR S GRAND-CHILD. Oil 
 
 no answer she took hold of her hand, but 
 quickly let it fall. At this moment Lucy 
 the white servant, came to tell Marianna that 
 her grandfather was growing impatient at 
 her absence. 
 
 " Lucy," cried Marianna, " do come here, 
 to aunt Xaomi, and tell me what is the mat- 
 ter with her !" Lucy came up, gazed at the 
 aged woman's lifeless form, touched it, and 
 then shook her head with a significant look. 
 
 < Can we do nothing for her?" exclaimed 
 Marianna. " But, look, Lucy, what are 
 those white wings waving, far out at sea ?" 
 
 u Why, they must be some kind of sea- 
 birds, of course," answered Lucy, with sur- 
 prise. 
 
 "Oh, no, no," said Marianna, bursting 
 into tears, "they are angels, that are carry- 
 ing away aunt Xaomi !" 
 
 The earthly remains of Naomi were laid
 
 4O WBKCKKKS (;KAM>-riIIU>. 
 
 1 > rest beneath the ancient orange tive. 
 whose IVnit and bloom^, dropping upon 
 her grave, might well be compared t<> the 
 good deeds she had done, and to the fragrance 
 of her precious memory. 
 
 She had no monument, except in the liv- 
 ing virtues of the sweet girl whom she 
 had reared, and no epitaph, except that 
 which was engraved upon the orphan** grate- 
 ful heart. 
 
 Time had reduced Marianna's grandfather 
 to a most unhappy condition, lie wa> now 
 seventy years old, and crippled l>y the rheu- 
 matism to a degree which added much t> the 
 infirmities of old age. But this was noth- 
 ing, compared with the increased harshne 
 and irritability of his temper. A violent, 
 headstrong di>p<iti>n, which its owner lias 
 eheribiied during a whole lifetime, often 
 seems, in old a^e, like a sort of in>anitv :
 
 WRECKER'S GKANIMMIILP. 4-1 
 
 and Von Ulden might have equalled any of 
 the Roman tyrants in cruel barbarity, if 
 Providence had not kindly denied him the 
 power to do so. 
 
 Marianna found it almost impossible to 
 get any servant to remain with such a master; 
 and Lucy, though a remarkably good-natured 
 girl, left them suddenly, one morning, be- 
 cause Von Ulden had thrown a large cup 
 full of coffee at her head, because the bev- 
 erage was not quite as strong as he liked it. 
 As Lucy told everybody the reason of her 
 leaving, no girl or woman, among the families 
 of the wreckers, offered to take her place ; 
 and Marianna, child as she was, proposed- 
 to her grandfather that she should do all the 
 house-work herself. But Von Ulden, at this 
 idea, iie\v into a terrific passion, and accused 
 his grand-daughter of wishing to " degrade" 
 both herself and him. by such " mean-spirited 
 4*
 
 42 WRECKER'S <,KAM>-rmu>. 
 
 conduct as that of performing a servant'.- 
 duties. 
 
 While Marianna was thu> perplexed, there 
 
 came to the house a pom- widow, wlm.-e oidv 
 sou had been drowned. Since this loss, she 
 had heeu extremely ]>our, and only managed 
 to live at all by assisting the wrecker's wives 
 in their washing, and other hard work. Of 
 late, however, she had received a great deal 
 of assistance from the charity of Marianna, 
 whose mind was already active in finding out 
 wavs of doing good. This widow gladly 
 consented to do the chief ]>art of the house- 
 work in Von Ulden's family. Marianna 
 promised to see that she was liberally paid, 
 but apprised her, at the same time, that a 
 great deal of patience would he required in 
 waiting upon her grand-father. 
 
 u Oh, inv dear "Mi>s, was the reply, " I can 
 rtt.:nd his crossness, when I think of your
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 43 
 
 goodness ; and even if you had promised 
 me nothing but food and shelter, I should 
 be glad enough to work for you /" 
 
 Nothing aggravated Yon Ulden so much 
 as the way in which he was now treated by 
 the other wreckers. It could scarcely be 
 expected that they would have enough of 
 kindness, patience, and delicacy of feeling, to 
 excuse the " old Commodore's' 1 disagreeable 
 caprices on account of his age and infirmities. 
 They had once admired his boldness, shrewd- 
 ness, and energy ; they now despised his 
 weakness, and considered him no longer of 
 any importance to them. 
 
 The little Island where Yon Ulden dwelt 
 was now deserted, except by himself, his 
 grand-child, and the woman who worked for 
 them ; hut this was a source of satisfaction 
 to Marianim, who had always retreated, as
 
 fast and as far as possible, from seeing and 
 hearing their wrecker visitors. 
 
 Finding that these men no longer came to 
 him to ask advice, to receive orders, or to 
 bring a portion of their spoils, Von Vlclen 
 resolved to go to them, and demand the rea- 
 son of their conduct. 
 
 Accordingly with the help of Ararianna, 
 he stepped into a little "batteau, and a black 
 boy, who held the oars, quickly rowed him 
 to the main land. TTlien lie came on shore, 
 the barefooted and bushy-headed children no 
 longer, as in former days, retired to a dis- 
 tance, and with their fingers in their months, 
 gazed, in awe-struck silence, at " the Commo- 
 dore." They followed him, laughing and 
 hooting, and, when the angry old man turned 
 around, and endeavored to >trike ^ome <>t 
 them with his >tick, tbev ran off a little wav.
 
 WK'KCKKK S GKAND-CHUJ). 4> 
 
 and then returned, with louder laughter than 
 before. 
 
 u Look at the old Alligator," cried one of 
 these rude urchins, comparing \ r on Ulden's 
 useless anger to that of the animal mentioned, 
 who, however he may wish to turn short up- 
 on his pursuers, or his intended prey, is al- 
 ways too clumsy to do so. 
 
 Seeing a couple of women standing in the 
 doors of the two nearest cottages, Von Ulden 
 began to scold them for allowing their child- 
 ren to be so insolent, but they in return, 
 scolded him with such shrillness and volu- 
 bility that he w:is so:>n forced to give up the 
 contest. lie then addressed himself to some 
 of the men, who were lounging about, smok- 
 ing their pipes, and, in a harsh, imperious 
 manner, demanded to know why it was that 
 he had not seen anything of them for so long ? 
 But the wreckers only turned him into ridi-
 
 46 
 
 cule, and laughed at his assumed authority 
 over them. 
 
 * Xoiie of your tantrums, OoHimodore," 
 said one fellow, "you've got to he an old 
 broken up hulk, now. and lit for nothing hut 
 fire- wood." 
 
 " \ es," added another, "we've cut you 
 adrift now. Dad, and you may as well float 
 along (jiiietly, until your crazy timbers land 
 in Davy Jones's locker !" 
 
 Von Ulden found that to threaten and de- 
 nounce these ruffians only increased their 
 contemptuous mirth, and he was perfectly 
 helpless to avenge himself. He turned away, 
 and hobbled to his boat again, while some of 
 the children, encouraged by the insolence of 
 their parents, pelted him with hand-fulls of 
 sand. 
 
 When Von Ulden returned home, he threw 
 himself into an arm-chair, and hi> long gray
 
 WRECKER'S <; HAND-CHILD. 47 
 
 beard flowed down over his breast, as lie 
 dropped his head forward, in utter abandon- 
 ment to misery. Not one ray of the divine 
 philosophy of the Gospel was there, to soothe 
 and control the unutterable tortures of a 
 fierce and haughty spirit, suffering under a 
 foul insult, for which it is utterly powerless 
 to obtain any redress. Yet Yon Ulden would 
 not, for a moment, entertain the thought that 
 .all this shame, and wretchedness, and deso- 
 lation, were the fruits of his own conduct. 
 lie had chosen to cast in his lot with the 
 wicked, and here was the natural result. 
 
 Marianna was too intelligent and observ- 
 ing a girl not to surmise, pretty clearly, the 
 cause of her grandfa therms present distress. 
 " What a pity, what a sorrowful pity, it is, 
 that he ever had anything to do with these 
 men," she thought to herself ; but she dared 
 not say so, lest Yon Ulden should consider
 
 4-8 WBECKEK'S GUANO-CHILD. 
 
 it, as a hint that he himself was to hlamefor 
 his sad situation. She longed to say some- 
 thing that would comfort him, hut there was 
 in his disposition so much that she could not 
 understand, and so much that she feared, as 
 to render the task a difficult one indeed. 
 
 Presently, she approached him timidly, 
 and, in the softest of her soft tones said, 
 " Grandpapa, I'm sure it would make you 
 feel better if you were to pray a little." 
 
 Yon Ulden. at this suggestion, felt very 
 much like a criminal who, when his guilt is 
 detected and he tries to seek safety in flight 
 and concealment, is advised by some friend 
 to take shelter in a court of justice. He 
 raised his head, stared at Marianna with 
 angry astonishment, and then uttered a curse 
 upon her " folly." 
 
 "Begone from my sight, this moment/'
 
 4"J 
 
 said lie, " and learn better than to aggravate 
 my troubles by your impudent advice !" 
 
 There was nothing left for poor Marianna 
 except sadly to retire from the apartment, 
 and then, in solitude, to pray for him who 
 thus obdurately refused to seek God's mercy 
 for himself. She did not pray that the 
 wreckers might be led to treat her grand- 
 father differently, or that he might be given 
 the strength and fortitude of mind not to 
 trouble himself about their contemptuous 
 treatment. All her supplication on his ac- 
 {omit were for this one thing that the Lord 
 would so open her grand-father's eyes, and 
 touch his heart, that he might have no grief 
 except for his past sins, and might long for 
 no gain except those riches of God which are 
 laid up in Christ Jesus.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A STRANGER INTRODUCED, AND HOW HE GOT 
 INTO TROUBLE. 
 
 /y fCT might certainly seem that, after 
 \lyPft Naomi's death, Marianna was left in 
 ^fefl a very lonesome and melancholy con- 
 dition ; and so, indeed it would have been, 
 but for one source of comfort, which could 
 never die. Marianna could not tell the exact 
 hour when she became a Christian, for, by 
 the teachings of her good nurse, the name of 
 Jesus was blended with her earliest recollec- 
 tions. As she grew older, and more thought- 
 ful, she felt a warmer appreciation of his 
 wondrous love, and a deeper conviction of 
 her need of the Saviour. Having so little 
 of human companionship, she came to hear,, 
 with wonderful distinctness, the voice of 
 
 51
 
 O2 WKKCKKK S GKAMM'HILI). 
 
 God conversing with her soul, both through 
 the pages of the Bible, and the scenes of 
 nature. II IT pleasures were pure and sinq le. 
 and she knew nothing of the feverish excite- 
 ments, or the perilous temptations, of thea- 
 tres and ball-rooms. AVhile attending to her 
 flowers, feeding her birds, or rambling along 
 the sea-beach, nothing could be more natural 
 than that thoughts of grateful devotion 
 should arise in her heart, and bring with 
 them some foretaste of the joys of Heaven. 
 Xor did Marianna'slife lack the two element.- 
 of usefulness and self sacrifice which serve 
 both to show the existence of true Chris- 
 tianity in the soul, and to promote its growth 
 there. There was ample room for the exer- 
 cise of these qualities in attending to her 
 grand-father's comfort, bearing with his 
 peevishness, and endeavoring to soothe the 
 gloom and irritation of his mind.
 
 WRECK KRS GRAND-CHILD. OO 
 
 Of course, she greatly missed her good 
 nurse, and in order to give new employment 
 to her thoughts, she went about the house 
 arranging almost everything which it con- 
 tained and which she was able to move. 
 While so doing, she found some old books 
 ^towed away in an obscure closet, and eagerly 
 examined them ; for she had never yet seen 
 any printed volume except a Bible, a hymn 
 book, and an arithmetic. 
 
 The books which she discovered were a 
 large and handsomely illustrated geography, 
 and three or four works upon ancient and 
 modern history. Every word in each one 
 of these volumes was intently studied and 
 eagerly devoured by her, for she longed to 
 know something about those mysterious lands 
 which formed the other shore of that broad 
 ocean upon which, each day, her gaze was 
 accustomed to rest. My young readers who 
 5*
 
 54 WBBCKKK'S (.KAXD-CHILD. 
 
 are blessed with so many advantages, will 
 doubtless smile at the island-giiT> simplicity : 
 but, in studying these books, she felt a> 
 though she was drinking in knowledge at a 
 thousand inlets, and it seemed to her that she 
 could feel the scales of ignorance falling 
 from her eve-. 
 
 No new-found treasure^ however, could 
 lessen her love for the oldest, truest, sweetest 
 book of all. On a certain memorable day 
 she took her Bible and went down to the 
 shore. It was late in the afternoon, and her 
 grand-father was lying down, inclined to 
 sleep away as much as possible of the time 
 which hung heavily upon his hand.-. Mar- 
 ianna took her seat upon a fragment of rock 
 close to the pebbly strand, and shaded by the 
 drooping branches of a magnificent willow 
 tree. If she turned her head to the right 
 or left, she saw the calm and bright expanse
 
 JVBECKEK'H GRAND-CHILI*. 55 
 
 of ocean, spreading away to the very horizon, 
 while the little island rested upon its azure 
 bosom like a tiny cloud amidst the clear blue 
 of heaven. Looking straight ahead, she saw 
 the adjacent main-land, stretching out its 
 long line of sea beach, covered with sand of 
 such dazzling whiteness, that it attracts the 
 attention of every stranger who approaches 
 the coast of Florida. 
 
 A little farther back, there were scattered, 
 here and there, the rude cottages of the 
 wreckers, and beyond these again appeared 
 trees and bushes, rich green grass and little 
 patches of cultivated ground. Marianna was 
 just near enough to see distinctly the wreck- 
 ers themselves, some of whom were idling 
 along the beach, some repairing or examin- 
 ing their little boats, and others spreading 
 their fishing nets out in the 'sun. After 
 gazing upon this scene for a short time, she
 
 56 WRECKER'S (.RAND-CHILI). 
 
 opened her book, and gave her whole atten- 
 tion to its contents. She had not read very 
 long when a lond yet cheerful female voice 
 was heard; "Halloo, Miss Marianna ! 
 Fond of reading, ain't you { AVell, it may 
 be pretty work for them that understands it." 
 
 A small boat was approaching the shore, 
 rowed by a stoutly built young woman, with 
 a sun-burnt, but good-humored and rather 
 handsome countenance. As she spoke, she 
 touched the island shore and laying down 
 one of her oars, held up a string of tine lish. 
 
 " (rood afternoon, Mrs. Clarke ; I see you 
 have got some nice iish for us as usual " said 
 Marianna, smiling. 
 
 "Yes, but don't pay me for 'em now; I 
 want to have something in bank, to get 
 Christmas presents for my husband and the 
 young ones. * Did you hear the news to-day,
 
 WKKC'KKK S (.KAMM'IIIM). ,+l 
 
 about tliat yacht and them that were on 
 board of her f ' 
 
 '"No," answered Marianna, "we have not 
 heard anything new. Did the yacht strike 
 on a reef f 
 
 " ^s o, bless you, the pilot had to run her 
 ashore, on purpose !" 
 
 " Why, what was the matter ?" 
 
 " Well, it seems that the four sailors who 
 were the crew of this yacht, had agreed to 
 mutiny, and take the vessel, but the cabin 
 boy let out all about it to the owner and com- 
 mander, Lieutenant Ferrand. So the Lieu- 
 tenant fastened three of the men down in 
 the hold, and held a pistol to the other one's 
 head, and made him run the yacht ashore, 
 right here. The Lieutenant, the pilot and 
 the cabin boy, got safely through the breakers, 
 but the three men in the hold were drowned.
 
 > s WRECKER S (rRAM)-CIIII.I). 
 
 "Oh, dreadful!" exclaims! Mariann;?. 
 u Would no one save them ?" 
 
 "AVhy, YOU see, our men were so busy 
 picking up things that had been washed over- 
 board, and were floating around, that they 
 hadn't time to listen to Lieutenant Ferrand. 
 He, as soon as he got breath and strength 
 enough, after getting to shore, shouted to 
 them to save the three sailors down in the 
 hold ; but, as I said, our men did'nt stop to 
 pay any attention to him. AVhen they went 
 on board the half-sunk vessel to see what 
 they could find there, they came across the 
 three drowned bodies. My husband got 
 this silver ring from the finger of one of 
 them." 
 
 Marianna looked at the speaker with 
 painful wonder, and then to change the sub- 
 ject, said, " I am glad that there were three 
 saved, anyhow."
 
 WRECKEK'S GRAND-CHILD. 59 
 
 '"Well, that's the queerest part of it," con- 
 tinued Mrs. Clark, unconscious of her listen- 
 er's emotions at what she had just heard. 
 
 " The man they had had for a pilot turned 
 out to be Jack Ross, who lived here for so 
 long, and only went away six or eight months 
 ago. Ross always was one of the hardest 
 cases around here. Among the things that 
 were saved out of the water was Lieutenant 
 Ferrand's chest with all his money in it, and 
 all his clothes, except what he-had on. Ross 
 said lie must have that, "because, if it hadn't 
 been for his getting up the mutiny, the yacht 
 wouldn't have been run ashore here at all, 
 and our men wouldn't have had any pickings 
 off of her. But Ferrand himself stepped up, 
 and drew a pistol, and said the chest was hi , 
 and whoever meddled with it, would do so 
 at his peril. Then Ross jumped on him as 
 if he'd tear him to pieces, and when the
 
 *'< WKKCKKR'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 Lieutenant found that Ross would get the 
 1 test of him, he just shot Jack with the pistol 
 that he had in his hand. Ross dropped like 
 a stone, and was dead in a minute. Does it 
 scare you to hear such things, Miss Marian- 
 na \ you look pale." 
 
 " It was an awful way to die !" sighed Mar- 
 ianna. 
 
 " Yes, and our men were awful mad about 
 having an old comrade killed that way. 
 They were going to hang Ferrand to the 
 nearest tree, and had got a rope ready noosed, 
 when the cabin boy fell on his knees, and 
 begged them to stop. That just struck them 
 dumb, for I forgot to tell you that this boy 
 was Jack Ross's own son Hugh ! While 
 they were wondering what next, old Giles 
 came up, and he too thought the b< >y acted 
 very strange considering Ferrand had just 
 shot his father ; but to hear how the young
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 61 
 
 scamp cried and begged, you'd have thought 
 it was a father's life he was pleading for. 
 Old Giles is always for going slow and #u/r, 
 and so he persuaded them to keep Lieutenant 
 Ferraiid shut up in an empty hut until to- 
 morrow morning, and let our men all talk 
 the matter over, this evening, and make up 
 their minds what to do with him. But, 
 Laws ! how long I've been stopping to talk ! 
 I m;ist hurry home, now, and get my hus- 
 band's supper. Good bye, Miss Marianna." 
 Marianna leaned her arm upon her Bible, 
 and her head upon her hand. She cast her 
 eyes across the same beautiful prospect of 
 ocean and land which she had viewed with 
 so much satisfaction, scarcely half an hour 
 before, but a cloud now seemed to rest up- 
 on its charms. There was the same blight 
 that came upon the bloom of Eden after the 
 fall of man ; there was the darkening and
 
 152 WRK.rKKR S ( i RA NIM'IITLD. 
 
 oppressive shade of sin ! AVe cannot wonder 
 that, on contrasting (rod's works w!th man's 
 wavs, the infidel Rousseau exclaimed, " In- 
 quire no longer, man, who is the author of 
 evil.- behold him in yourself! Take away 
 all that is the work of man, and all the rest 
 i> good." In thinking over what she had 
 just heard from Mrs. Clark, Marianna's re- 
 flection.-, were, " God has filled this place 
 with warmth, brightness, beauty, and per- 
 fume. Human beings have filled it with 
 strife and miserVj wickedness ;;nd horror! 
 I hit how different would things h^, if ;iil or 
 most of those here had, hv faith in Jesus, re- 
 ceived from the Holy Spirit the gift of a new 
 heart !" 
 
 It will he rememhered that "Mariauna had 
 never lived in, nor even >eeii, a really Chris- 
 tian community, one where the Bible is 
 read, public worship is held, and the pro-
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. f>3 
 
 fessed followers of the Saviour dwell. But 
 her Testament clearly taught her that " The 
 fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, long- 
 suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meek- 
 ness, temperance." She knew that each a 
 scene of heartlessness, plunder and violence, 
 as she had just heard described, could never 
 occur among those whose souls were filled 
 with Christian charity and Christian love. 
 
 Then came the thought, " Can the religion 
 of Jesus ever become generally known and 
 loved in this place ?" To Marianna it did 
 not appear that such a thing was impossible, 
 for here, again, from the pages of her Testa- 
 ment came a silent reply, telling her that the 
 power of God had done even greater things 
 than this. But, as to the manner in which 
 such a wonderful change might be effected, 
 she could not even form a surmise. She 
 could not imagine that it would be in any
 
 64 
 
 degree owinu: to such a feeble instrument us 
 hcr-elf. "Marianna had no idea that these 
 tilings of which >he had just heard this 
 plundered vessel, this slaughtered man, this 
 unfortunate prisoner, this son pleading for the 
 slaver of his father, were hut the first links 
 i;i a chain of incidents which should make 
 plain to her the way in which she was to 
 work for Jesus among the wreckers of 
 Florida. 
 
 Here we will leave Marianna, for awhile, 
 to her thoughtful musings, while we sketch 
 the portraits of the ne\v characters just in- 
 troduced. Cuildren, and ignorant people ot 
 all a g-. judge of things chiefly by their out- 
 side appearance; and, no doubt, this had 
 something to do with the idolatry, ('for it was 
 nothing le.) of young Hugh lioss, towards 
 his late commander, Liemenant yerrand. It 
 had also some influence upon the minds of
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. t>5 
 
 the wreckers, though even they would have 
 been ashamed to confess such a weakness. 
 
 Francis Ferrand had lived thirty-three 
 years, hut, (except his faithful term in the 
 Navy) not to do much service. II is personal 
 appearance was unusually interesting. His 
 fine features bore an expression of more than 
 ordinary intelligence, combined with frank- 
 ness and sincerity of disposition, and they 
 were lighted up by a pair of bright, pene- 
 trating eyes. 
 
 It may easily be judged that now, as he 
 laid himself down upon a rude wooden bench 
 in the otherwise unfurnished hut, he did not 
 look quite as usual. His thick dark hair, and 
 even his moustache, were still damp with sea- 
 water; and the light brown, with which a 
 sailor's life had overspread his complexion, 
 had given way to a paleness which showed 
 that neither mind nor body were well. His 
 6*
 
 head ached from a blow which one of the 
 wreckers had given him with an oar-blade, 
 immediately after the shooting of Ross, and 
 his heart ached from several different causes. 
 lie knew that his life was in great peril from 
 the ruffians who had him completely in their 
 power ; and lie had awaiting him at home, a 
 lovely and amiable young wife and an infant 
 daughter. These dear and helpless creatures 
 would, by his death, be left without any de- 
 pendence, except upon the charity of others, 
 for Ferrand, though born to a large fortune, 
 had, long since, got rid of it. His habits 
 had not been exactly vicious, though blame- 
 ably extravagant, and his unbounded gener- 
 osity, while it really did good to many a de- 
 serving object, was often used by base and 
 dishonest persons, to their own advantage. 
 Now, he could not leave his family enough 
 to support them for a year, but this thought
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 67 
 
 was not needed to give bitterness to the idea 
 of never seeing them again. 
 
 It was a painful reflection too, that this un- 
 lucky voyage had obliged him, without in- 
 tending it, to cause the death of all four of 
 the men who had composed the crew of his 
 yacht. The yacht itself, which the wreckers 
 were then plundering, was the last and 
 most cherished fragment of former wealth 
 and luxury, but Ferrand did not think of 
 that. 
 
 Hugh Ross took the first opportunity of 
 .speaking aside with old Giles, and requesting 
 that he might be allowed to carry Lieutenant 
 Ferrand a dry suit of clothes from his chest. 
 This was willingly granted, and Giles con- 
 trived that Hugh should take the clothes 
 without being seen by any of the other 
 wreckers. 
 
 When Hugh entered the hut where Lieu-
 
 <;^ WRECKER'S <, HAND-CHILD. 
 
 tenant Ferrand was confined, lie found him 
 >tri'tched upon the rough wooden bench, as 
 we have described. His eyes were cL'-'-K 
 one arm was beneath his head, and the other 
 hand rested upon the back of the bench. 
 Hitherto, Hugh had seen him unconquerably 
 active, lively and hopeful. He had seen him 
 surrounded by men who were obliged to 
 treat him with the utmost deference, and to 
 ol >(.' v every word that he uttered. Xow, IK >\v 
 forlorn, melancholy and helpless was his sit- 
 uation ! 
 
 Tears tilled the boy's eyes ; lie approached 
 softly, took the hand that rested upon the 
 bench-back, and pressed it to his lips. Lieu- 
 tenant Ferrand immediately unclosed his 
 eyes, and was not surprised at seeing Hugh, 
 for he had recognized his cabin-boy's step as 
 soon as he entered. But for reasons which 
 the reader will soon understand he felt as
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 69 
 
 though he would rather not look at him. 
 However, the Lieutenant was surprised by 
 Hugh's action, and gazed at him in silence 
 for a moment or two, while three or four dif- 
 ferent expressions passed, by turns, over his 
 countenance. He then said, in a tone of re- 
 buke, " Boy, did you not see your father fall 
 by my hand, not more than an hour ago ?" 
 
 Hugh became of a deathly paleness, and 
 answered in a choked voice, " Yes sir, but 
 I know you could'nt help it." 
 
 "Very true," replied Ferrand, with no 
 less sterness than before, " but, whatever his 
 character may have been, John Ross was 
 still your father ', and it does not become you 
 to kiss the hand that killed him." 
 
 So pointed and unexpected a rebuke from 
 such a quarter, completely destroyed what 
 yet remained of Hugh's self-possession. He 
 hastily laid the bundle of clothing down at
 
 70 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 Lieutenant Ferrand's feet, then turned away, 
 buried his face in his hands, and, sobbing 
 convulsively, left the hut. As soon as he 
 could regain enough outward calmness, he 
 repaired to the cottage of old Giles, where 
 the wreckers were now assembling, to decide 
 the question of their prisoner's life <>r death. 
 Samuel Giles was the oldest man in the 
 wrecker community, but at the age of sixty, 
 he was still strong and active. During the 
 greater part of his life he had been a sailor 
 in the V. S. Navy, and had borne a good 
 character. Hut the temptations of bad com- 
 pany and bad example at length overcame 
 him, and brought him to adopt a wrecker's, 
 calling. As Giles always dealt tairly by 
 !iis comrades, and was never known to break 
 his word, the other wreckers felt as much 
 respect for him as such men could feel for 
 ne of their own crew, and they had lately
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 71 
 
 urged him to become their head, or " Com- 
 modore," in the place of Yon Ulden. But 
 Giles was the son of pious, though humble 
 parents, and would doubtless have become a 
 Christian himself, if he had not, when a 
 mere youth, forsaken his home and its influ- 
 ences, to run away to sea. Often, now, when 
 engaged with his fellow-wreckers in some 
 act of heartless robbery, there would flash 
 across Giles' mind the remembrance of a 
 mothers' prayers and a father's godly coun- 
 sels, and his stalwart frame shivered at the 
 fear of a judgment to come. Yet this man, 
 who had faced so many dangers, had not the 
 moral courage to say anything against the 
 lawless conduct of his associates, or to de- 
 cline following the same mode of life. He 
 therefore made all sorts of feigned excuses 
 f >r not taking the leadership of the wreckers, 
 and cherished in his heart the delusive hope
 
 <1> \VIM.< KKU > <, I;AM>-< MILD. 
 
 that Clod would be bribed by this piece of 
 self-denial, to overlook his daily transgres- 
 sions.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 II Hill's STOKY. MAKIAXNA IS SENT WITH AN 
 
 UNPLEASANT MESSAGE. 
 
 one crime naturally leads to anoth- 
 er, those wreckers who had appro- 
 priated the largest share of Lieuten- 
 ant Ferrand's property were now anxious to 
 have him put to death. The pretext which 
 they gave for this was a desire to avenge the 
 death of John Ross, but every one knew that 
 they really opposed Ferrand's being set at 
 liberty because they feared that he might 
 bring them into trouble for their acts of rob- 
 bery. Hugh Ross listened, with anxious 
 emotion, to the hardened and merciless 
 speeches now made by these men, one of 
 whom concluded his argument by saying, 
 
 (73)
 
 74 WRECKER'S -RANL>-CHILI>. 
 
 -.lack Uo.-^ -.vas one of ourselves, as you 
 
 may siv, but who knows or cares anything 
 about ///./'* chap '" 
 
 M / do," boldly answered Hugh. 
 
 " \Vell," 1 rejoined the preceding speaker, 
 "you ought to be ashamed of yourself to say 
 M>1 If 7 had a son that would' nt avenge 
 my death, nor even want it avenged, I'd 
 break every bone in his body I" 
 
 " Xever mind,'" observed old Giles, " talk- 
 ing don't cost anything, nor listening, neither. 
 So, go on, Hugh, and say all that you want 
 to." 
 
 The wreckers did not require any intro- 
 duction to tell them who this boy was. His 
 history is briefly this: 
 
 John Ross and his wife had always been 
 noted in their community as a quarrelsome 
 and disorderly couple, and both were fre- 
 quently known to be intoxicated. Their
 
 WRECKERS (-RAND-CHILD. (^ 
 
 eldest son had been killed in a dispute with 
 another wrecker, and the second was drowned 
 while endeavoring - to secure his share of 
 plunder from a sinking vessel. But these 
 losses did not render Hugh's parents any 
 more gentle and affectionate towards their 
 surviving child. Mrs. Hoss, as might have 
 been expected from such a woman, possessed 
 very little tender feeling, but what natural 
 affection she had, was often roused to protect 
 her child from the brutal ill-treatment of 
 Ross. He was surly and disagreeable, and, 
 when anything provoked him, lie yielded to 
 every suggestion that the author of mischief 
 could breathe into u wicked heart. 
 
 Hugh knew no more about books and 
 learning than do the sparrow's young, or 
 the fox's cubs ; and what is far worse, he 
 knew nothing at all about religion. He had 
 never seen a Bible, never uttered <>r heard
 
 7l*. WRW-KEK S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 uttered a prayer, and knew his Creator's 
 
 name onlv from bearing it in oaths and ciirso. 
 Thus, until lie was twelve years old, Hugh 
 had led a life which might very well have 
 been compared to that of a neglected and 
 ill-treated dog. At the age of twelve, he 
 lost his mother, and this would have made 
 his condition worse than ever, if some of his 
 mother's relations, who were decent people, 
 residing in Tallahassee, had not accidentally 
 heard of his miserable situation. 1 1 is father 
 made not the slightest objection to letting 
 him go to Tallahassee ; indeed, he wa.- glad 
 to get rid of him. By means which we need 
 not stop to relate, his mothers relatives con- 
 trived to have Hugh placed on board of a 
 man-of-war, as one of the ship's boy? ; and, 
 for three \ e:ir> past, nothing had been seen 
 or heard <>{ him by the wrecker community. 
 "When he let'l that eommnnitv, Ilu^h was :i
 
 WRECKER'S OKAND-OTIILD. 77 
 
 thin puny, half-starved child ; but he now 
 appeared as a stout, ruddy-cheeked boy, 
 with the resolute look of one who had be- 
 come accustomed to thinking and acting for 
 himself. 
 
 On Giles now giving him leave to speak, 
 Hugh proceeded, as concisely as he could, to 
 relate his own history, since leaving Florida. 
 
 During his first voyage on a man-of-war, 
 nothing had made such an impression on his 
 mind as the great social distance between the 
 naval officers and tho.se who, like himself, 
 held the humblest positions on board. It 
 seemed to him, at first, the natural and 
 proper state of things for those grand gen- 
 tlemen in blue broadcloth and gilt buttons, 
 to act imperiously and insolently towards 
 the poor, " common," human beings who ap- 
 peared to have no mission in life except to 
 obey their orders. But soon, he noticed that
 
 78 WRECKER'S UKANIM-HILI*. 
 
 one of these gentlemen, and that one, the 
 most elegant, and truly dignified of them all, 
 never >wore, nor vociferated, nor used rough 
 or a ! nisi ve language. Lieutenant Ferrand 
 became, at once, the poor sailor boy's ideal 
 of human perfection ; and he even had the 
 daring ambition, (as it seemed to himself,) to 
 ''wish that his "Maker had made hint, such a 
 man." 
 
 One day, while talking with a b>v who 
 was his intimate associate, Hugh thoughtfully 
 observed, " I wonder if a boy that has been 
 brought up like me, could ever get to be a 
 real gentleman ?" 
 
 Lieutenant Ferrand overheard this remark, 
 and was pleased with the spirit of it. "My 
 lad, 1 ' said lie to Hugh, "if you ever wish to 
 raise yourself, you must begin by trying to 
 know nior . than vou do now."* 
 
 Hugh caught eagerly at this -ug^estioil,
 
 WKECKEE'S GKAND-CIIILD. 79 
 
 'joining from a source which he so highly es- 
 teemed. Encouraged by Lieutenant Ferrand, 
 he learned first to read and then to write, 
 having persuaded one of the ship's boys, who 
 had received a decent education, to assist him 
 in his studies. Ferrand praised Hugh's 
 quickness in learning, and pointed out various 
 needful improvements in his manners and 
 habits, which Hugh adopted with a prompt- 
 ness that still farther increased the Lieuten- 
 ant's good opinion of him. Young Ross now 
 became neat and cleanly in his appearance, 
 left oil' .swearing, and the use of coarse and 
 vicious expressions, and gave every proof of 
 having been stimulated to en ?r upon an 
 honorable career. 
 
 The three years' cruise wa , very nearly 
 over, when a sailor, one day, trod on the 
 paw of the Captain's dog, and made him 
 limp. On bcMiig taxed with this grave of-
 
 N > \V R KC K K K S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 feiu-e, the man was frightened, and laid it 
 upon Hugh. AVithout listening to the hoy's 
 denial, the enraged despot of the ship 
 knocked him down, and kicked and tramp- 
 led on him in his fury. Lieutenant Ferrand 
 was not far off, and hastening up, he seized 
 the Commander by the arm, jerked him a way 
 from Hugh, and indignantly expressed his 
 opinion of the cruelty and unmanliness of 
 such conduct. The Captain, who had always 
 imagined himself to be "lord of all lie .sur- 
 veyed." was astounded by this bold interfer- 
 ence', but no revenge which he could have 
 taken <>n f/tc -y>f. was sufficient to satisfy his 
 insulted dignity. So, as he walked away to 
 his own cabin, he merely said to Ferrand 
 with a menacing air, " You shall be made 
 sorry for thi>, MT !" 
 
 A few days afterwards, when the vessel 
 entered the port of New York, Lieutenant
 
 WRKCKKB'S G HAND-CHILD. 81 
 
 Fcrrand was put under arrest and tried by a 
 Court Martial for his disrespect to his Com- 
 mander. He made no attempt to deny or 
 explain away the charge, and was sentenced 
 to be " suspended" for a long period, from 
 the U. S. service. Immediately after the 
 trial was over, Hugh Hoss saw the Lieuten- 
 ant, who said to him, with a smile full of 
 lofty feeling, "Hugh, I'm not sorry yet /' 
 
 Hugh, however, was sorry to the very 
 soul, in thinking what a return he had, 
 though innocently and unintentionally, 
 made for all Ferrand'a kindness and conde- 
 scension. IIcj too, obtained his discharge 
 from the ISTavy, and, for some time afterwards 
 picked up a precarious living by doing odd 
 jobs of work about the streets of Xew York 
 city. One day, he accidentally met with 
 Lieutenant Ferrand, who since his suspen- 
 sion from the Kavy, had been doing nothing
 
 S L! WRECKERS <-KAMMHILI>. 
 
 in particular. II is relatives, and those <f Li.; 
 wife, had offered him the choice of several 
 good situations, in large mercantile houses, 
 but he declined to take any of them, as a" 
 his early training and habits had disqualified 
 him for such a position. 
 
 Tie had now purchased from a friend the 
 right of a patent, spice-grinding machine, 
 with which he was about to make a voyage 
 of speculation to the West Indies, iiihisown 
 yacht. On meeting Hugh, lie at once en- 
 gaged him as hi.- cabin-boy, and then adver- 
 tised for a few seamen to serve as crew. 
 Among the men who presented themselves 
 was John Ross. As soon as Lieutenant 
 Ferrand learned that he was Hugh's Father, 
 he accepted him without asking for any 
 other recommendation. Ross evinced no glad- 
 ne.-s, or emotion of any kind, at the unex- 
 pected meeting with his son, and Hugh's <!<-
 
 WRECKER'S <;KAXIM;IIILT>. 83 
 
 meaner still showed the force of that habit 
 which, ever since infancy, had taught him to 
 shun and to fear a father's presence. 
 
 During their voyage to the West Indies. 
 Lieutenant Ferrand treated Hugh with a 
 more marked kindness than ever, as if to 
 show that he bore no grudge for the boy's 
 having been the unfortunate occasion of his 
 suspension from the Navy. What Hugh 
 esteemed the greatest favor, was being al- 
 lowed access to his Commander's small but 
 select library of choice books, in which the 
 cabin-boy found a gold-mine of new ideas. 
 
 These were days of sunshine, but a shadow 
 was drawing nigh. The patent spice-mill 
 proved a failure which did not even pay the 
 expenses of the trip ; and we have already 
 seen how disastrously the homeward voy- 
 age was interrupted. "And now," said 
 Hugh, in conclusion, " I don't know how
 
 s4 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 anybody can blame me for not wanting to 
 pec Lieutenant Ferrand hanged. Yon need 
 not take his life to get what belongs to him 
 either, for if von let him go free, and he 
 promises not to put yon to any tn>uhl<-. I 
 can tell you that he will never be worse than 
 his word." 
 
 Here Hugh concluded his story, to which 
 the wreckers had listened with remarkable 
 patience. ^Nothing was said until each of 
 them had taken another drink of spirits and 
 water, and then old Giles began thus : 
 
 "You've heard this boy's speech, and 
 now hear mine. You want somebody to be 
 your commander, in place of Yon ITldeii, 
 but I'm not the kind of man you need. 
 I'm too old, and too stupid. We've all seen 
 that Lieutenant Ferrand is a brave man, and 
 Hugh's story shows that lie's good-natnred 
 and whole-smiled. IWuli'-. 1-c knows more
 
 NviiKCKi-iu'ri <;;JAXIM.::III;I). 85 
 
 than any of us, or lie couldn't have held the 
 position that he did, in the Xavy. I've been 
 too long in the service myself, not to have it 
 cut pretty deeply into my mind that a navy 
 o fllcer, as a general thing, has to be something 
 more than common. How much finer Com- 
 modore he would be for us than Yon 
 Uldeii !" 
 
 The wreckers were evidently struck by 
 this idea, but, after a pause, one of them re- 
 marked, " There's always two sides to a bar- 
 gain, though ; and, even if we are willing, 
 who knows but that he mightn't be ?" 
 
 " I should think he'd like it better than 
 hanging, if the choice were put to him," 
 said another. 
 
 "Yes," added Giles, " and just now, when 
 
 he's suspended from his position in the 
 
 Xavy, and his speculation in the West Indies 
 
 has failed, and he has lost so much by coming 
 
 8
 
 SO WXBCKKR'S <;itAxiM-;i:i,i>. 
 
 ashore here, I guess he's not in the humor 
 
 to stand much on ceremony. We'll have a 
 talk with him about it." 
 
 Anumg the listeners to this discussion wa> 
 a hlack hoy named Peter, who, every day, 
 carried in his little boat to Von Ulden's is- 
 land, various kinds of meat and vegetable.-, 
 for the family there to purchase. 
 
 At an early hour, next morning, Peter got 
 into his boat and proceeded to the island, 
 with M>me provisions. While he was dis- 
 posing of these articles to the servant wo- 
 man, the talkative young trader told her the 
 late>t news, in the shape of Lieutenant Fer- 
 iMnd's capture, and the discussion as to 
 whether he should be put to death, or ap- 
 pointed " Commodore" of the wreckers. 
 This account -was listened to with intercut, 
 not only by the person to whom it was ad- 
 dreed, but also by ^Farianna and her grand-
 
 WUKTKKU S <.RAM>-< Mill. I). > i 
 
 father, who were sitting at a couple of open 
 windows, enjoying the sweet freshness of the 
 morning: air. Marianna was much relieved 
 
 o 
 
 in mind to hear that the unfortunate stranger 
 was still alive, and that his life was likely to 
 be spared ; but her grandfather felt galled 
 beyond endurance at the very idea of that 
 stranger's being chosen by the wreckers as 
 their chief. 
 
 It was plain to Marianna that he was fear- 
 fully agitated, but she could imagine very 
 little of his feelings. Presently he said, 
 '" Marianna, get your hat on and let Peter 
 row you to the main-land. I have a message 
 that I can send by you only." 
 
 Marianna, accordingly, put on her wide- 
 brimmed straw hat, which every time that 
 she wished to wear it, was trimmed anew, 
 by twining about its crown a wreath of fresh 
 flowers, to which she sometimes added one
 
 ^ Wlil-X'KKRS GKAXD-CIIILD. 
 
 or two pend.int pieces ol delicate vines. She 
 then presented herself before her grand- 
 father, to receive his commands. 
 
 Yon I'ldeii tried to speak calmly and rea- 
 sonably, but he shook from head to foot with 
 direful emotions, as he 'thus, addressed "Ma- 
 rianna : L " Go to some of the wreckers ; tell 
 them that Yon Ulden now sends them the 
 best advice that he ever gave. I have cer- 
 tainly lived long enough, and seen enough of 
 the 'world to make my counsel of some value, 
 and these men were once glad to ask for it. 
 Tell them, I say that Yon Uldeivs last ad- 
 vice is, to hang the man who is now their 
 prisoner." 
 
 Mnriaima started back, and vainly tried 
 for a moment or two, to think that she had 
 misunderstood the old man's words. 
 
 " AVhy, grandfather, what has he done '." 
 she presently inquired.
 
 GliAND-CHILD. 89 
 
 " Don't question me! don't argue with 
 ine ! cried Yon Ulden, frantically, " Carry 
 the message I have given you." 
 
 " Oh, grandfather I I cannot !" said Ma- 
 riaima, shuddering. 
 
 It was now Yon Ulden' s turn to be as- 
 tonished, when, for the first time, he found 
 his will resisted l>y his gentle and dutiful 
 grandchild. A look of agony was blended 
 with the indignation that darkened his fea- 
 tures, as he exclaimed, "And you, too, have 
 turned against me ! "Now there is not one, 
 not one being upon earth who will obey 
 this weak voice, or fear the old man's anger ! 
 You cannot go indeed! Tell the truth at 
 LUice, girl, and s.-iy that yon will not." 
 
 Marianna was silent. Tier good nurse, 
 Naomi, had always taken CM re to impress up- 
 on her mind the beauty and value of obedi- 
 ence, that virtue which parents are most 
 8*
 
 {)< WRECKKR'S <;KAM>-CHILD. 
 
 delighted toiind in their children ; and which 
 is the most pleasing tribute that our heaven- 
 ly Father can receive from his creatures, 
 
 
 
 -hire it affords the sweetest proof of a. true 
 faith in Him. Disobedience to parents is 
 now fully admitted to be that sin which more 
 than all others put together, leads young 
 people to wretchedness and ruin. It wa> 
 the crime of disobedience committed by the 
 tirst of human race that "brought Death in- 
 to the world, and all our woe !"
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MAKIANNA OBEYS I1EK GRANDFATHER^ COM- 
 MANDS. LIEUTENANT EERKAND MAKES A 
 
 TERRIBLE MISTAKE. CONVERSATION 
 
 BETWEEN HUGH AND MARIANNA. 
 
 Alii ANN A was now in one of these 
 ^perplexing situations in which it 
 seined impossible to escape something 
 very disagreeable. Her greatest anxiety 
 was to choose, not the most pleasant course, 
 but that which was strictly the right one. 
 Her conclusion was, u I will obey my grand- 
 father, arid, at the same time, beseech God 
 to preserve me from causing the wreckers to 
 commit another crime, and this poor stranger 
 to loose his life." 
 
 It was a strengthening thought, and Ma- 
 rianna was now enabled to answer with out-
 
 92 WKKCKKU'S (rUAMM HIM). 
 
 ward raininess, " Forgive me, grandfather; 
 I will go." 
 
 " A ii-l you will really carry the message 1 
 have given you C" said Von Ulden, in't know- 
 ing how t<> account for her sudden change of 
 manner. 
 
 " Yi-s sir." answered Marianna, looking 
 into her grandfather's face, while lie scanned 
 her countenance with a searching eye. Von 
 Vlden had never known hi.- granddaughter 
 to he guilty of falsehood <;r deception, and 
 harsh and s:i>picioiis as he was, he felt that 
 he had no right to douht her now. Accord- 
 ingly he said only, " (TO then." and Marian- 
 na departed. 
 
 She took a seat in Peter" > little boat, and 
 while the luy was rowing her towards the 
 mainland, her heart was lifted up to (rod in 
 silent prayer. She soon stepped on shore, 
 with a resolution to deliver her me.-'sa^e
 
 WRECKERS I;KANI>-CHILI>. 96 
 
 only to Giles, whom she had discovered to 
 be more human than the other wreckers, and 
 who, therefore, would he less likely to take 
 the advice which she unwillingly conveyed. 
 
 As Marianna had no share in her grand- 
 father's unpopularity, she met with no un- 
 pleasant demonstrations, upon landing. On 
 the contrary, the men touched their hats as 
 she passed them, and one of the wrecker's 
 wives, meeting her with a smile, said, u Well, 
 my pretty little lady, can any one here do 
 anything for you ?" 
 
 " Thank you, ma'am ; I should like to 
 say something to Mr. Giles, if he is here," 
 replied Marianna. 
 
 The woman showed her where Giles was 
 standing, just outside the hut where Lieuten- 
 ant Ferrand was confined, and before enter- 
 ing which, he was studying how to open the 
 delicate and important conversation that he
 
 !U WBEOKEBS <;:uAM'-<-mi.i>. 
 
 wns to hold with the prisoner. The >ound 
 (.t* Marianna's voice roused (tile- from hi> 
 
 meditations, and lie greeted her with. "(inud 
 morning, "Miss Marianna; it's an uncom- 
 mon treat to see y<m. here, and so early 
 in the morning too !" 
 
 "The truth is, Mr. Giles." said she, speak- 
 ing with agreat effort, "grandfather insisted 
 upon my coming here, to bring the wreckers 
 his last advice, as he sa\>. and that advice 
 is that that you will hang the man whom 
 y<n have now got prisoner !" 
 
 Here Marianna was so much shocked by 
 the sound of her own words that she turned 
 pale, and was unable to say anything more. 
 (iiles, however, seemed to think her grand- 
 father's message a very characteristic one. 
 In reply, he merely shrugged his shoulders, 
 lifted his gri/xly eye-brows, and put a quid 
 of tobacco into his mouth. The old sailor
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 95 
 
 then proceeded to unfasten and open the door 
 of the hut before which they stood, and, 
 looking in, he said, with a grim smile, 
 " Good morning, Lieutenant. Here's a young- 
 lady come to say that the best thing we can 
 do is to hang you/' 
 
 Lieutenant Ferrand had been walking 
 slowly back and forth, for want of something 
 else to do, but he now stopped near the open 
 door, and looked at Marianna in extreme 
 amazement. He would have thought it 
 cause enough for surprise to see a creature so 
 delicately fair, in this wild place, and amidst 
 these rude and lawless people, 'but to hear 
 that this lovely child wished to have the un- 
 fortunate stranger put to a horrible death, 
 was indeed a subject of the greatest wonder. 
 
 We need not say that Marianna was most 
 painfully confused, and the color which had 
 been entirely banished from her face, some
 
 'MI WRECKERS GRANIM IIILI). 
 
 minutes before, now came rushing back in 
 ui a* liuw of crimson. Unable to bear the 
 idea of being so misunderstood, she hastily 
 exclaimed, " It was not I who thought so : 
 It was my grandfather !" 
 
 *' Indeed ?" said Lieutenant Ferrand, smil- 
 ing, "and what have I done to the old gen- 
 tleman, that he wishes to see me strangled ?"* 
 
 "'You would' nt ask that if you knew him, 
 Lieutenant," answered Giles. "I don't know 
 how even this young lady can have patience 
 with such a grandfather, for he's one of the 
 most outrageous old, 
 
 " AVait a moment Mr. Giles," said Ma- 
 rianna ,with dignity, " I am going away now, 
 and then you can talk of my grandfather as 
 you choose." 
 
 S.> >;iying, she walked rapidly away, re-en- 
 tered Peter's boat, and was rowed back to 
 the Uland.
 
 WRECKER 1 8 GRAND-CHILD. 07 
 
 Giles satisfied Lieutenant Ferrand's curi- 
 
 , 
 
 osity, by giving a brief account of Marianna 
 and her grandfather, and then proceeded to 
 speak of the subject which was uppermost 
 in his mind that morning. Strange as it may 
 seem, Giles could perceive that he himself 
 would not do right in becoming the leader of 
 the wreckers, and yet he could reconcile it 
 with his conscience to persuade a younger 
 and more experienced person to do this very- 
 thing ! The old sailor imagined that, in this, 
 way, he was shifting the moral responsibility 
 from himself to Lieutenant Ferrand ; and 
 all that we can say to explain or excuse these 
 ideas is that Giles had very dim and cloudy 
 notions of what Christianity really consists. 
 He commenced the conversation by asking 
 Lieutenant Ferrand if he had any family ; 
 and, when the Lieutenant replied that he had 
 a wife and child, Giles saw his breast give a
 
 '.^ WRECKER'S <,i:A\i-rnir.i>. 
 
 short quick heave, that told of smothered 
 
 Giles then proceeded to say that he was 
 -afraid the wreckers would never consent to 
 spare their prisoner's life, except upon one 
 condition. What that condition was, our 
 readers know already, but Lieutenant Fer- 
 rand was very much surprised on hearing it, 
 and it was plainly to be seen from his coun- 
 tenance, that he felt himself highly affronted. 
 His lace flushed as he exclaimed, "And do 
 tlie>e thieving vagabonds really imagine that 
 I would be their leader ? Your people have 
 taken my vessel, my money, and almost 
 everything that I possessed besides, and now 
 do they think to rob me even of my honesty 
 and respectability '." 
 
 Giles did not think it at all strange that 
 Lieutenant Ferrand should view the matter
 
 WRKCKKK S GRAND-CHILD. D9 
 
 in this light, and yet he tried to look as if 
 he did consider it singular. 
 
 " Well sir," said he, " I am only anxious 
 to save your life, especially as you have a 
 family. But, I suppose, if anything should 
 happen to you, they would be well provided 
 for. I dare say, your relations, or your 
 lady's relations, are well off and some of 
 them might, 
 
 " I want none of their help*, for my family 
 or myself, " hastily answered Ferrand. 
 
 The fact is, that the manner in which the 
 Lieutenant had allowed his large fortune to 
 slip through his fingers, the way in which 
 he had incurred a suspension from his posi- 
 tion in the Navy, and the visionary and un- 
 profitable speculations which he had since 
 been trying, had caused all of his wife's rela- 
 tions and most of Ferrand's own, to declare 
 that he was not capable of taking care of
 
 JOO WRECKERS <;U.YXI>CHILD. 
 
 himself, much less <>f a family. They ex- 
 pre>.-ed great pity f >r Mrs. Ferrand, but she 
 always disclaimed the idea of being a fit 
 subject for compassion, and assured her hus- 
 band's detractors that they would yet see 
 him pursuing a useful and prosperous career. 
 !Xuw, Ferrand thought when he returned 
 home from another unsuccessful speculation, 
 and plundered of everything, how painful 
 would be the feeling of his devoted Blanche, 
 and how keen the sneers of her relations. 
 
 Jle was silent, and Giles thus continued t 
 speak : " There's no mistake about it that 
 a great deal is to be made by this business, 
 if it is carried on by a man of sense and 
 spirit. Old Von Ulden made enough, while 
 he was at it, to keep himself and his grand- 
 daughter comfortable all their lives. What 
 I thought, sir, was that you might promise 
 to be our "Commodore" just for one year,
 
 WRECKER'S <, RAND-CHILD. 101 
 
 and reserve the liberty, after that, to keep 
 the situation or not, just as you choose. 
 Then sir, when that time is up, you might go 
 home full-handed, and nobody you care for, 
 need know exactly what business you had 
 been in." 
 
 Lieutenant Ferrand began to feel that 
 there was some temptation in this, but though 
 shaken, he was not conquered. 
 
 In a low yet resolute voice, he answered, 
 " I was not trained for any such life as this. 
 I have some conscience, and value principle 
 far more than money." 
 
 At these words, Giles himself turned pale, 
 and those horrors of conscience to which, at 
 times, he was subject, came suddenly over 
 him. Yet still, with the fatal obstinacy 
 that ruins so many souls, he would not yield 
 to the conviction that he was utterly a sinner, 
 and had no hope but in God's pardoning 
 
 a*
 
 1O_> WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 grace. On the contrary, he cast about ii\ 
 hi> mind for some excuse that should justify 
 his present conduct in his own opinion, as 
 well as in Lieutenant Ferrand's. 
 
 Presently, his brow cleared up, and with 
 a new confidence, Giles thus began to speak : 
 * "Well, the fact is, Lieutenant, I wasn't 
 trained for this kind of thing neither. My 
 parents were good people, and tried to teach 
 me what was right, and now, that I'm getting 
 old, I often feel that I would like to lead a 
 different life. Xow, most of the wreckers, 
 here, don't seem to know right from wrong, 
 and I think that, if they had a leader that 
 they would respect and obey, and that had a 
 conscience of his own, he might control 
 them for their own good, and other people's 
 too. Yon know, sir, a wrecker needn't bj a 
 thief. AVhen tilings are washed on shore, 
 or when our men, at the risk of their lives
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 103 
 
 iish them out of the ocean, and when there 
 is no owner to claim them, I think we have 
 a better right to them than anybody else. 
 Then, what a chance we have here, for show- 
 ing humanity to ship-wrecked people ! 
 There's no telling, sir, how many of them 
 poor unfortunates you might save from 
 perishing in the course of a year, and what 
 a reform you might make among the wreck- 
 ers themselves." 
 
 Ferrnnd was silent for some moments, 
 while lie considered the subject in this new 
 light. Amidst the agitation and hurry of 
 his thoughts, just then, the idea of asking 
 God to guide him aright, never occurred to 
 his mind. Tie was what we may term a 
 lialf-religious man, and the sort of instinctive 
 respect which he felt for holy things was 
 owing to the teachings of a Christian mother, 
 whose gentle guidance he had lo.4 when
 
 104: WRECKER'S (.RAMM HILD. 
 
 about sixteen years old. His father was 
 spared for several years later, but his care 
 was almost entirely centered on the cultiva- 
 tion of his son's mind, as Francis was ivully 
 a youth of very promising talents, and. had 
 he not been born rich, might have " made 
 his mark'' in the world. But, being trained 
 to no particular occupation, the energy of 
 his nature was never fully developed, and he 
 acquired a thoughtlessness of character that 
 clung to him through life. His aim wa.s to 
 enjoy the present hour as fully as possible, in 
 a refined and graceful sort of way, and with- 
 out wronging anybody else. 
 
 The lovely and pious young lady whom he 
 married had, more by her example than by 
 anything she said, " almost persuaded" him. 
 "to be a Christian;" but the difficulty was 
 that he could not come up to the reality of 
 believing himself to be a great sinner. "I
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 105 
 
 liave never done much harm," he would say, 
 " and I never meant to do any." He per- 
 suaded himself that with just a little religion 
 to piece out his own merits, he might easily 
 manage to get to Heaven. He went to 
 church quite frequently, and on Sunday, 
 would pick out and read some of the most 
 interesting narratives, and poetic portions of 
 the Bible. 
 
 Xow, while Lieutenant Ferrand was con- 
 sidering the arguments that Giles had urged, 
 his whole frame became agitated with per- 
 plexity. He cast alternate glances at Giles, 
 at the floor, and at the windows, as if in 
 hopes of seeing something that might help 
 'him in making up his mind ; but, as we 
 said before, he somehow forgot to look to 
 God. 
 
 " Why," said he, at length, though in a 
 hesitating tone, " if I can do any good by
 
 !'<: WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 spending a year among these people, that 
 must, certainly, make a difference. I think 
 I will try the experiment." 
 
 As he spoke, hoAvever, the blood again 
 tingled in his cheeks, and he pressed one hand 
 over his eyes, in an agony of shame at having 
 accepted Giles's offer, under any pretence. 
 The old sailor perceived this spasm, and said 
 hastily, " Well, sir, I pledge yon my word 
 that I will do all I can to help you in your 
 plans, and try to bring about a better state of 
 tilings here. But he so kind, now, as to, 
 come with me to my cabin, and get a cup of 
 coffee, and a little breakfast." 
 
 Lieutenant Ferrand promptly rose, gave 
 himself a slight shake, and put on his hat. 
 He did not care anything about breakfast, 
 ju.-r then, but he felt eager for some change 
 of scene and of subject. 
 
 When the Lieutenant and Giles emerged
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 107 
 
 from the lint, most of the wreckers were 
 standing in a group, a little distance off, 
 talking together. Ferrand wore a neat un- 
 dress uniform, and a very becoming straw 
 hat, and there was something in his whole 
 appearance which might have riveted the at- 
 tention, and struck the fancy of wiser people 
 than the Florida wreckers. 
 
 "Well, boys," exclaimed Giles, as he 
 pointed to the Lieutenant, " here is our new 
 Commodore." 
 
 All the wreckers immediately pulled off 
 their hats, tossed them np in the air, and 
 gave three vehement hurrahs, while Lien- 
 tenant Ferrand bowed slightly in return, and 
 forced himself to smile. The wreckers then 
 crowded around him to shake hands, and to 
 show their cordiality of feeling, they thought 
 themselves bound to shake his hand as vio- 
 lently as possible. Ferrand soon showed by
 
 l<i> WKECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 hi> looks that he was tired of this kind ;f ex- 
 ercise, and Giles persuaded the other wreck- 
 ers to put off the rest of the hand-shaking 
 until some future time, and allow the Lieu- 
 tenant, just now, to take a cup of coffee. 
 
 After taking a little refreshment, Lieuten- 
 ant Ferrand's next act was to sit down and 
 write a letter to his wife, lie hriefly in- 
 formed her that his AVe>t India speculation 
 had tailed, and that his yacht had run ashore 
 on the Florida coast, and was considerably 
 injured, hut that he had unexpectedly re- 
 ceived " an appointment, 7 ' which he ingen- 
 iously, but not very clearly described a*- that 
 of being "a sort of wreck-master," fur this 
 portion of the coast. He stated that the 
 duties of this office might keep him ab- 
 sent from home fur a year, but that his sal- 
 ary w>i;H enable him to send his wife enough 
 mom -y to support her and their little one in
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 109 
 
 comfort, for that period of time, at least. In 
 conclusion, he promised Blanche that she 
 should receive letters from him very fre- 
 quently, and gave such directions as would 
 enable her messages to reach him, in return. 
 
 Ferrand's chest, and all its contents, had 
 now been given back to him, and he enclosed 
 in this letter to his wife several bank-notes, 
 which comprised very nearly all the money 
 he had. When the letter was ready, Giles 
 undertook to see that it was put in the way 
 of safely reaching its destination. 
 
 On the afternoon of the next day, Hugh 
 was wandering listlessly along the beach, 
 while the wrecker's children played noisily 
 and boisterously about, and some of the boys 
 every now and then disturbed Hugh's medi- 
 tations, by calling to him to " come and have 
 some fun,'' or by playing him some mischiev- 
 ous trick, as a penalty for being "so dull and 
 10
 
 110 WBBCKKR'S (^RAND-CHILD. 
 
 sober." But it was now young Ross's par- 
 ticular wish to be left to himself, and as, in 
 looking across tlie intervening water, lie saw 
 the quiet beauty of Yon Ulden's island, it 
 struck him that there would be a good place 
 in which to seek for peace and solitude. Ac- 
 cordingly, he jumped into a little boat, took 
 the oars, and rowed himself to the island. 
 There he sat himself down, near the shore, 
 upon the roots of an old tree, which had 
 been laid bare by the washing of the waves 
 at high tide. Hugh rested his elbows on 
 his knees, his chin npon his hands, looking 
 straight before him. His expression of face 
 grew more and more sad, and he had just 
 heaved a sigh so deep that it was almost a 
 groan, when a slight rustling near by attracted 
 his attention, and caused him to look around. 
 Hugh's ideas concerning angels were the 
 most crude and dim imaginable, and rclV red
 
 Ill 
 
 only to wings and long white robes; but we 
 cannot blame him for this, since it was only 
 recently that by reading Lieutenant Ferrand's 
 books, he had learned that such beings ex- 
 ist at all. But the book which Hugh had 
 read most attentively was " The Arabian 
 Nights," and from its pages he had gathered 
 pretty distinct notions of what fairies were 
 supposed to be ; nor had he the slightest 
 doubt of the reality of those charming and 
 highly gifted beings. 
 
 Therefore, after staring for a moment or 
 two at the girl who stood not far from him, 
 Hugh seriously ;md deferentially inquired. 
 " Are you a fairy, Miss ? ' 
 
 Now, the few books which Marianna had 
 read, all happened to be true ones, and, in the 
 knowledge of fictitious things, even Hugh 
 was in advance of her. 
 
 "A fairy!" she repeated, with surprise.
 
 Ill' WRECKER'S GUANI>-<JJIIU>. 
 
 " what is that ( I am Marianna Yon Ulden, 
 and my grandfather's house is over there, 
 among the orange trees." 
 
 "Well," returned the boy, "I am Hugh 
 Ross ; but I wish that I was almost* any body 
 else." 
 
 " Why ?" asked Marianna. 
 
 " Because,'' said Hugh, anxious to unbur- 
 den his heart to a listener of such amiable 
 appearance, "because there's nobody in 
 this whole world that cares one straw about 
 me, or wants me to care anything about them. 
 My father was buried this morning, but lie 
 never thought me of any account when 
 he was living. I had one friend that did a 
 great deal for me, and that I would be will- 
 ing to die for this minute, and that's Lieu- 
 tenant Ferrand. But as my horrid bad luck 
 would have it, lie must be the \ < rv one to 
 >hoot my father; and now, I can see that
 
 WRECKER'S <. HAND-CHILD. 113 
 
 lie don't caiv about having me near him. It 
 seems as if lie blames me tor still liking him, 
 after what has happened. 
 
 " Old Giles has given me a home, just so that 
 Lieutenant Ferrand may have me to wait on 
 him, and still, T don't wait on him much, be- 
 cause he won't give me a chance to. I don't 
 know what's to become of me, or what kind 
 of a man I'm to grow up to be. I've got 
 nothing to do, nothing to learn, nobody to 
 talk to, and no one to care whether I live or 
 die !" 
 
 Hugh's words, and the melancholy, hope- 
 less way in which they were spoken, easily 
 drew forth the sympathy of Marianna. 
 
 " Well," said she, " the time was when T 
 had a good many that loved me, and that I 
 love still, though they are gone from me 
 now. I can just faintly remember my 
 mother, like a dream of an angel, and how 
 JO*
 
 114 WKK< KKK'S OKAMM im.i>. 
 
 she held me to her bosom and kis>ed me. 
 My father, too, was very fond of me, I know : 
 and then I had aunt Naomi, such a good 
 kind nurse, Oh, there never was another 
 likelier! Now, I have no one but grand- 
 father, and he lias so much to worry him. 
 But what am I talking about '. I have some 
 one else, to be sure, who loves me better 
 than even a mother, or a father, could. A> 
 aunt Naomi's hymn-book >a\ >. 
 
 "One there is above all others. 
 
 Well deserves the name of friend." 
 
 "That Friend watches over me by night 
 and by day, saves me from danger, even 
 before I know that any danger is near; 
 cheers my heart when I am >ad. tells me 
 when 1 do wrong, and helps me do right. 
 Tm perfectly sure that Friend will never for- 
 xik- me, a::d will never feel displeased with 
 me, unless it'> for some good cause/'
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 115 
 
 " I wish that I had such a friend as that," 
 said Hugh with a sigh." 
 
 " Why, you can have," answered Marian- 
 na; "He is willing to be the friend of any- 
 body that will ask him. 
 
 Then seeing that Hugh looked surprised 
 and perplexed, she inquired, "Don't you 
 know anything about Jesus, the Saviour V 
 
 " Yes ;" said Hugh, " the sailor boy that 
 taught me how to read had no book except 
 a Bible that his parents had given him, and 
 go I learned out of that. The last part of it 
 was about Jesus, how he cured sick people, 
 and gave sight to the blind, and many other 
 things that I don't remember. Dut how can 
 he care anything about us '< He is in Heaven 
 now r , and we are way dow r n here, upon this 
 earth !" 
 
 "Why," said Marianna, very earnestly, 
 "He is the same with God, the Maker of
 
 11<; WRECKER'S URAND-OHILD. 
 
 this island, that main-land, that great ocean, 
 and everything else that's in this world ; 
 and don't you think that he who made every- 
 thing can see and know everything ? ITc is 
 looking at yon and me standing here, at this 
 moment ; He listens to our words, and 
 reads every thought in our hearts. Yes, 
 though we can't see him, He is right here 
 now ; to his believing disciples his promise 
 is, " I am with you always." 
 
 A> Marianna emphatically pronounced this 
 great truth, a sudden conviction of its reality 
 darted through Hugh's whole being, like an 
 electric thrill. Starting to his feet, he looked 
 around him. A mysterious brightness seemed 
 to rest upon that blooming isle, that snowy 
 beach, and wide-spread ocean, because 
 Christ was there ! "With feelings somewhat 
 like those of Paul, when that wondrous light 
 broke upon his vision, near Damascus, Hugh
 
 WKECKKR'S GKAND-CHILD. 117 
 
 said, half to himself and half to Marianna, 
 " But how can I tell what Jesus wants me to 
 do!" 
 
 " Have you no Bible," asked Marianna. 
 
 " ^o indeed ; I never had one," answered 
 Hugh. 
 
 Marianna reflected a few moments, then 
 said, "Well, I will give you aunt ^Naomi's 
 Bible. I don't know that I ever could give 
 it away, if she hadn't said to me, just a few 
 days before she died, " Dear child, when I 
 am gone, and you meet with some poor soul 
 that has no Bible, give him this." I told her 
 that I should never like to part with it, but 
 she said, " Yes, Bibles are to do good with, 
 and not to keep hoarded up. You have one 
 that your dear mother left, and you must 
 keep it always." So, wait here Hugh, and 
 I will soon be back." 
 
 Marianna tripped away to her grandfather's
 
 118 WKKCKKR'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 house, and speedily returned with the Bible. 
 She could not refrain from a sigh, and a 
 moistening of the eyes, as she placed in 
 Hugh's hands that volume which she had 
 seen her dear nurse read so often, but she 
 comforted herself by saying to the boy, " I'm 
 sure that if reading this makes you better, 
 and happier, I shall only be carrying out 
 aunt Xaomi's last wish in giving it to you.'' 
 
 As soon as he received the Bible, Hugh 
 opened it, turned over a leaf or two, and 
 glanced anxiously at the pages. 
 
 u AVhen I read a book," said he, " I always 
 like to understand it, and I don't know as I 
 can understand everything in this." 
 
 " Then you must ask God to help you un- 
 derstand it," replied Marianna. 
 
 As Hugh had never tried to pray, he felt 
 doubtful whether he could proceed rightly 
 in offering a petition to the Sovereign of the
 
 WRECKER 
 
 universe* Mariamia saw thi.s in his looks, 
 and thus continued ; " You must just go 
 where you can be t^uiet by yourself, and 
 kneel clown, and raise your thoughts to God, 
 and ask Him, for Jesus' sake, to teach you 
 the right meaning of what you read in His 
 holy book. Remember, He can hear you as 
 well from the Florida beach, as if you were 
 kneeling right before His throne in heaven !" 
 
 Again Hugh in voluntarily glanced around 
 and upward, and, awe-struck in the felt pres- 
 ence of "the King eternal, immortal and 
 invisible, " he reverently replied, "I'll do 
 as you say." 
 
 " Yes, and I, too, will pray for you," said 
 Marianna. " But good-bye, Hugh ; it is time 
 for me to be going home." 
 
 Hugh thanked Marianna, with unfeigned 
 warmth, for her precious gift, and stood look- 
 ing after her until she had flitted out of
 
 iL'd WRECKERS ; HAND-CHILD. 
 
 sight. Then, putting the Bible in his bosom, 
 lie jumped into his boat, and returned to the 
 main-land. He inquired if Lieutenant 1'er- 
 rand had anything for him t< do, and, on 
 being answered in the negative, he at once 
 went to the garret room where lie slept un- 
 der the sloping and moss-covered roof of 
 Giles's cottage. Hugh very sensibly began 
 by kneeling down and uttering a short prayer 
 for Divine help to understand what he should 
 read. He then opened his Bible at the Xew 
 Testament, and was soon absorbed in >tudy- 
 ing the teachings, the sufferings, and the re- 
 deeming love of Jesus.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 LIEUTENANT FERRAND DISCOVERS HIS MISTAKE. 
 
 HE VISITS VOX ULDEX'S ISLAND. HUGH 
 
 LEAVES THE WRECKER SETTLEMENT. 
 
 SHE next day Lieutenant Ferrand, for 
 the first time, stepped upon the strand 
 ^ ^ of Von Ulden's island. His motives 
 in coming were similar to those which had led 
 Hugh thither the preceding afternoon. His 
 mind was dissatisfied ;- he was restless ; 
 and the quiet, retired appearance of this is- 
 land seemed to promise a pleasing means of 
 escape from disagreeable company. On the 
 first evening after accepting the office of 
 " Commander," Lieutenant Ferraiid began to 
 realize how difficult was the task he had un- 
 dertaken to reform the wreckers. That 
 evening, they held a festive meeting in hon- 
 
 1 I (U'l)
 
 i'2'2 WRECKER** <;K'\\I>-< nn.n. 
 
 or of their "New Commodore," and Lieu- 
 tenant Ferraiid was obliged to take the head 
 of the table, and preside over a scene which 
 he heartily detested. He firmly declined to 
 do more than taste the liquor which was 
 placed before him, although repeatedly urged 
 to drink; and he patiently endured the 
 clouds of tobacco smoke, and the almost con- 
 stant spitting of the tobacc< > chewers, though 
 he never used the noxious weed in any form. 
 
 But scarcely could he hide the disgust pro- 
 duced by the shocking profanity of those 
 around him. His mother had impressed up- 
 on his mind such an abhorrence of this habit 
 that it could never be effaced, and the first 
 piece of advice he had given Hugh Ross was 
 an injunction to leave off swearing, which 
 Hugh did from that hour. 
 
 The wreckers soon became drunk and 
 nM>y, and the room where they were assem-
 
 WKKCKKK'S (; RAND-CHILD. 123 
 
 bled resounded with roaring laughter and 
 vulgar songs. When he had endured his 
 penance as long as possible, Ferrand rose, 
 bade the company good night, and left the 
 apartment. 
 
 The wreckers thought this singular be- 
 haviour, and jet they felt it as a relief, for 
 Lieutenant Ferrand's presence was a restraint 
 upon them, and they had been obliged to 
 make some effort to "enjoy themselves" 
 while he saw and heard them. 
 
 The next day, Ferrand commenced a prac- 
 tice which afterwards became habitual with 
 him, that of roaming about through the 
 vicinity, " killing time," and trying to kill 
 thought, by viewing the charms of natural 
 scenery in a part of the world which he had 
 never visited before. On the third morning, 
 his restless mood led him, as we have said, 
 to Von Ulden's island. Hugh managed the
 
 1^4 WRECKERS GRANIM -iiiu>. 
 
 oars of the little boat which performed this 
 short voyage, and when Lieutenant Ferrand 
 stepped on >liore, Hugh made fast the boat 
 and followed him. Ferrand walked leisure- 
 ly along, looking at the island scenery, and 
 on catching .sight of Von Tlden's house, 
 turned his steps in that direction. 
 
 He had almost reached the dwelling when, 
 coming along a foot-path through the luxu- 
 riant grass, there appeared Von Ulden, lean- 
 ing upon the shoulder of Marianna. This 
 meeting was accidental, and when Marianna 
 saw the Lieutenant, she tried to turn her 
 grandfather's steps in another direction, but 
 it was too late. Von Ulden immediately 
 judged who Lieutenant Ferrand was, and 
 Ferrand. on his part, made an equally suc- 
 cessful gue.-s, from seeing the old man sup- 
 ported by Marianna. A boding scowl came 
 over Von UldenV f; ( ce as lie saw the Lieu-
 
 WRKCKEKR 
 
 125 
 
 tenant, but Ferrand looked tranquil and un- 
 conscious, as he picked his teetli with the 
 point of a bird's quill, which he had found 
 a few minutes before. 
 
 " You are the new Commodore, I sup- 
 pose ?" said Von Ulden, with a grim sneer, 
 " I wish you joy of your new dignity !" 
 
 Ferrand well understood his meaning, but 
 he answered gravely, and with a polite in- 
 clination of the head, "I thank you, sir." 
 Yon Ulden however, seemed to be deter- 
 mined that they should not part upon peace- 
 able terms, and he remarked with the same- 
 air of savage derision, u It's laughable to see 
 full grown ruffians so pleased with a new 
 toy, that, after awhile, will be broken and 
 thrown aside ! You may thank your stars, 
 my little gentleman, that old Von Ulden's 
 word is not as powerful as it once was, or 
 
 11*
 
 you would liave been hung up two or three 
 days ago ! M 
 
 " I know it,' ' answered Lieutenant Ferrand, 
 composedly, u and, though I have a great 
 aversion to hanging, I begin to think that, if 
 you could have persuaded them to kill me 
 in any other way, it would have been a very 
 friendly act." 
 
 " You mock me, do you, puppy ; yon pre- 
 tend to think the old broken down wrecker 
 not worth quarrelling with," exclaimed Ton 
 Ulden, rapidly working himself into a pas- 
 sion. " What brings you here, to beard me 
 at my own door ? You shall find it a dear 
 experiment ! You shall learn what it i> to 
 come and defy the tiger in his lair !" 
 
 As he thus spoke. V.n riden drew forth 
 a long bladed, sharp pointed knife, which he 
 always carried, and, pushing aside Marianna, 
 advanced toward the Lieutenant.
 
 WRECKER'S GRANIKMIILD. 127 
 
 Ferrand stirred not a step to avoid the 
 knife, but drawing liis coat away from the 
 left, side of his bosom, touched his vest right 
 over the heart, and said, " Strike me here, 
 and strike hard !" 
 
 The two children, who had been astonished 
 spectators of this scene, saw that Von Ulden 
 was actually about to take his life, without 
 fear or hesitation, and they both sprang for- 
 ward. Marianna caught hold of her grand- 
 father's arm, and Hugh wrested away the 
 knife, which he then flung into a thicket at 
 some distance. Highly indignant, young 
 Ross exclaimed, " Old man, if it was not 
 for her" pointing to Marianna, u I would 
 soon tell you what I think of you !" 
 
 " Hush ;" said Lieutenant Ferrand, " you 
 had better think if you and I may not come 
 to be as wicked as he is, by the time our hair 
 is as white !"
 
 128 WRECKER'S GKAMM;IIILD. 
 
 Hugh looked at the aged sinner before him. 
 recalled the conversation he had held with 
 "Marianna the preceding day, and the good 
 resolutions which he had formed that morn- 
 ing, over the open pages of his newly ac- 
 quired Bible, and he wondered, with a 
 shudder, if all those resolutions could fail, 
 and he be left, at length, to such an old age 
 as this ! 
 
 Again, as on a former occasion which we 
 have described, there came over Yon Ulden's 
 tace a sudden change, from rage to anguish 
 and despair. " Yes," he groaned, " I am fit 
 for nothing now ! Even children can baffle 
 me ; and I have lost the power to revenge 
 myself on any one !" 
 
 With these words, he staggered to a fallen 
 tree near by, sat down upon it, and dropping 
 his head forward and .shutting his eyes,
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. ' 
 
 seemed to sink into a partially insensible con- 
 dition. 
 
 " All," said Marianna, with pallid cheeks 
 and quivering lip, addressing herself to the 
 Lieutenant and Hugh, " if you knew how 
 much grandfather suffers, you would pity 
 and not hate him !" 
 
 " I do pity him, my dear," said Lieutenant 
 Ferrand. 
 
 " I believe you do, sir,'" replied Marianna, 
 looking at him gratefully, " but I must say 
 that you are a great deal too careless of your 
 own life." 
 
 " I don't know," answered Ferrand, " I 
 felt just now as if I might as well meet death 
 at once, before I found any more troubles ; 
 and I should never have had that trial 
 to go through with again, since 'It is ap- 
 pointed unto men but once to die.' v 
 
 " But, after that, the judgment^ impres-
 
 130 WRECKER'S OKANIM HILD. 
 
 sivelv and significantly added Mfurianna, lin- 
 ishing the quotation. 
 
 Ferrand oast down his eyes, and Marianna 
 saw that he, who had so calmly braved death 
 a few minutes before, shrank from the thought 
 of that decision which might be passed upon 
 his soul by the Almighty Judge, should he 
 imw be hurried into eternity. 
 
 He said nothing, however, but, after stand- 
 ing in pensive meditation for a few minutes, 
 bowed to Marianna and walked away, fol- 
 lowed by Hugh. 
 
 The wreckers were now, by Lieutenant 
 Ferrand's directions, engaged in repairing the 
 yacht, and making it seaw r orthy, so that it 
 might be used by them as a trading vessel 
 to carry to neighboring ports such goods as 
 they wished to dispose of. 
 
 This did much towards rendering their 
 new leader popular with the wreckers. In-
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 131 
 
 deed, his influence over them was wonderful, 
 considering that he never joined in their 
 drinking parties, and rarely held a conversa- 
 tion with any of them except Giles and hib 
 wife, with whom he resided. But the fact 
 that there was a great deal in his behaviour 
 which they could not understand, gave the 
 wreckers a much higher opinion of Lieuten- 
 ant Ferrand ; as people are more apt to re- 
 spect that which is mysterious, and above 
 their comprehension. Besides, Ferrand had 
 a very amiable disposition ; a gift which 
 renders goodness ten times more attractive, 
 and makes even the erring and benighted 
 soul seem not less than an " angel ruined.'' 
 The blending of mildness and dignity in the 
 Lieutenant's actions and language, made a 
 still deeper impression on those around him, 
 because they had been accustomed to the 
 harshness and violence of You Ulden, and
 
 132 WRECKERS GRANIVTHILI). 
 
 they found that their new Commodore 
 rould be ju>t a? firm and decided as the old 
 one, without being unreasonable or passion- 
 ate. 
 
 Ferrand was much more pleased to con- 
 verse with the women and children of the 
 wrt-eker families than with the men; and his 
 manner towards these two classes was full of 
 that noble gentleness which some people call 
 " chivalry," but which is nothing more than 
 doing to others as we would have them do to 
 us, if we were weak and timid, and they 
 were brave and strong. 
 
 About ten days had elapsed since Lieuten- 
 ant Ferra nd's first arrival in Florida, when 
 a violent gale sprang up, which caused a 
 small merchant vessel to be wrecked upon 
 that portion of the coast. The wrecker.-, as 
 UMial, thought of nothing but securing what- 
 ever article.- of value were to be picked up,
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 133 
 
 r.:i(l the master of the vessel and three men 
 who were with him, might have perished in 
 the waves, if Lieutenant Ferrand, with Giles 
 and Hugh, had not gone to their relief in a 
 small boat, and rescued them, at the peril of 
 their own lives. When the four sea-faring 
 men found all their property in the hands of 
 the wreckers, they remonstrated against such 
 conduct, but nothing was given them except 
 a dry suit of clothes for each one, and they 
 were soon made to understand that their 
 lives would be in danger if they said any- 
 thing more. The master of the vessel was 
 in despair at his loss, and exclaimed to Lieu- 
 tenant Ferrand, "If I'd known that your 
 men were going to plunder me of everything, 
 in this way, I'd as lief have been drowned I" 
 Ferrand was vexed and mortified beyond 
 expression, and knowing that it would be 
 useless to command the wreckers to give up 
 12
 
 134 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 their plunder to its proper owner, he tried t 
 persuade them into doing so, by talking to 
 them as though they were persons of honor- 
 able and benevolent feelings. But these 
 lawless men -considered his remonstrances 
 only as a proof of what they termed " green- 
 nt'ss," and positively, yet respectfully, de- 
 clared that " such a thing as that would never 
 do!" 
 
 " Findings is keepings ; that's wrecker's 
 law, sir," added one of them, triumphantly. 
 
 Ferrand walked away in disgust, feeling 
 that all the hold which he had upon these 
 men was surely not enough to. produce any 
 givat reformation among them. It is true 
 that missionaries in foreign lands, behold the 
 most ferocious and degraded savages trans- 
 formed into good and useful men ; but these 
 missionaries have a secret of power which 
 Ferrand did not possess. Before there can
 
 WRECKERS ^RAND-CHILD. 13i> 
 
 be any great change in'a person's life, the- 
 heart must be changed, and nothing can 
 change the heart but the power of the Holy* 
 Spirit. Ferrand had not learned by his own 
 experience the wonder-working power of 
 Gospel faith, and when mere morality, 
 which he expected would have the effect of 
 a wizard's wand, proved to be a dead and 
 brittle stick in his grasp, he felt completely 
 helpless and baffled. 
 
 The wreckers now set about dividing their 
 spoils, and Lieutenant Ferrand was sum- 
 moned to preside, and see that it was done 
 fairly. He promptly complied with this re- 
 quest, and nothing but his deep seriousness,, 
 and the fewness of his words y showed that he 
 remembered the difference of opinion be- 
 tween himself and his followers. 
 
 A choice and liberal share was, by the gen- 
 eral vote, alloted to their new " Commodore,""
 
 13f> WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 ami lie immediately had the articles conveyed 
 to a spot not far off, where he had directed 
 the ship-wrecked sailors to wait until they 
 should hear from him. Giles's conscience 
 had taken a fresh alarm from some words 
 that had heen addressed to him by Lieuten- 
 ant Ferrand, and he immediately consented 
 to give up to the ship-wrecked men his share 
 also of their cargo and personal property. 
 The sailors purchased for a trifle, from one of 
 the wreckers, a four-oared boat in which they 
 placed the goods that had been returned to 
 them, and started off to seek along the coast, 
 for some more hospitable place of rest. 
 
 Lieutenant Ferrand's heart now felt won- 
 derfully light. It was very cheering to think 
 that after all, he could do some good by re- 
 maining, for a time, among the wreckers, and 
 restoring to ship-wrecked people as much of
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 137 
 
 their property as fell to the shares of him- 
 self and Giles. 
 
 It was not until an hour afterwards that 
 the idea struck him, "But how, then, can 
 I do anything for my family, if, by remain- 
 ing 'here, I gain nothing but my own subsis- 
 tence ? *' 
 
 The more he thought of this difficulty, the 
 worse it appeared. He felt like a bird en- 
 tangled in a net, vainly beating its wings in 
 the effort to fly, but becoming every moment 
 more involved in the cunning snare. While 
 Ferrand was pacing up and down his room, 
 trying to decide what course he should pur- 
 sue, there was a rap at the door, and, on the 
 Lieutenant's saying, " come in," Giles made 
 his appearance. 
 
 " The gale is blowing up hard again, sir," 
 said he, " and there's a. vessel going to pieces 
 off the south-west." 
 12*
 
 l:'>^ WEECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 " We must try and save the men on board," 
 said Lieutenant Ferrand, eagerly. 
 
 u ( )h, that ain't possible, sir !" answered 
 (Tiles. " She's too far off, and the sea's too 
 rough for a small boat ever to get near her." 
 
 On looking out upon the ocean, Lieutenant 
 Ferrand saw that this was indeed true, and 
 even while he looked, the ill-fated vessel dis- 
 appeared entirely, beneath the furiously toss- 
 ing waves. 
 
 As soon as the gale had abated, the wreck- 
 er.- were out in their boat>, picking up what- 
 ever articles from the wreck drifted along 
 upon the water, and bringing up some 
 others by fishing for them with their grap- 
 pling irons. 
 
 Having no better occupation at present, 
 Lieutenant Ferrand al><> went out in a boat 
 with (iiles and Hugh, and assisted in gather- 
 ing in the wrecker's harvest. On returning
 
 WBECKKR'S GRAM>-:CIIILI>. 131) 
 
 to the shore again, lie found upon tlie beach 
 the hoilies of two drowned men, one of 
 whom was the commander of the sunken 
 vessel. Some of the wreckers had already 
 -commenced to plunder these bodies, and, 
 after taking from them everything of value, 
 gave them a rude and hasty burial. 
 
 Lieutenant Ferrand knew that, by the let- 
 ters and other papers found upon the drowned 
 men. by marks upon their clothing, or 
 .similar means, he could probably find out 
 who they were, and where their families re- 
 sided ; and conscience said, to those families 
 belonged everything of value that had been 
 the property of the dead. But he stifled 
 these thoughts, and said to himself, " I can- 
 not help it. I inn-Kt have something to send 
 to Blanche." 
 
 The next morning. Lieutenant Ferrand's 
 yacht, under the command of Giles, sailed to
 
 140 WKKCKKR'S ^KAND-THILIX 
 
 a neighboring sea-port, to <li>poMj of go<,,<~!> 
 which had been obtained from the recent 
 wrecks. Giles himself was too ignorant a 
 man, and had been too long a wrecker, to 
 perceive that he was doing anything amiss in 
 appropriating the property of the drowned 
 sailors, and his wife gravely remarked, "I'm 
 Mire it's well for us, and for them poor souls ? 
 too, that they've all gone to a better world ; 
 for, this plan of the Lieutenant's, about 
 keeping nothing for yourself if there's any- 
 body else to claim it, may all sound very 
 good ; but you and I, Giles, can't live on. 
 nothing, and we're too old to go to work !" 
 
 Tn a few days the yacht returned, and the 
 money for which the cargo had been sold 
 was divided among the wreckers. 
 
 They allotted a liberal share to Lieutenant 
 Ferrand, and he immediately dispatched it 
 in a letter to his wife.
 
 \V KECK Kits GKAND-CHILD. 14:1 
 
 After seeing the letter duly started upon 
 its journey, he returned to his own apart- 
 ment, locked the door, and, throwing himself 
 upon his bed, buried his face in the pillow, 
 as though he felt himself unworthy to be- 
 hold the light of day. 
 
 "!N"ow," he ejaculated, "I have, indeed, 
 fallen! Francis Ferrand, whose name was 
 never mentioned in the same breath with 
 meanness or dishonor, has shared with vil- 
 lains their plunder, and kept what right- 
 fully belonged to the widow and orphan !" 
 
 This thought made the unhappy man 
 writhe as if, like the Mexican Emperor of 
 old, he had been stretched upon a bed of 
 burning coals, and not upon the couch where 
 only the night before, he had enjoyed a 
 sound and refreshing sleep. In a little while, 
 he became more calm, (though not more con-
 
 KL' WRECKERS GRAXIM;HILI>. 
 
 tented,) and then he asked himself, "But, 
 how did I ever come to this *" 
 
 His thoughts ran back over all his preced- 
 ing life, even to the period of early childhood. 
 IN saw himself again fondled in the arms of 
 that sweet mother whose only fault was that 
 she could see nothing in her darling child 
 but what was lovable. Again he heard his 
 father telling over, with proud satisfac- 
 tion, all his hopes of what their noble boy 
 would prove to be, in the future. And how 
 much Frank had been loved and petted by 
 all around him, whether relations, neighbors,, 
 acquaintances or servants ! He was so pretty, 
 so intelligent, so good-humored and affec- 
 tionate ! And, in addition to all these pleas- 
 ing gifts of nature, he was the only child of 
 wealthy parents, the heir of luxury and 
 splendor. 
 
 To such a one, the Saviour had said, of
 
 WBECKER'S GKA^IXIIIILD. 143 
 
 old, " one thing tliou lackest ;" and this was 
 Ferrand's case, but yet lie knew it not. 
 
 While thinking over all the happy past, 
 that had now vanished as completely as last 
 night's dream, Lieutenant Ferrand was a- 
 roused by a slight tapping at his room-door. 
 He rose from the bed, smoothed back his 
 disordered hair, drank a glass of water, and 
 then, with seeming composure, unlocked and 
 opened the door. Hugh stood there, and 
 said modestly, " Mrs. Giles says sir, shall 
 she bring your supper to your room ?" 
 
 u No, I thank her ;" answered the Lieuten- 
 ant, " I shall not take supper this evening. 
 Have you had yours yet Hugh?" 
 
 "No, sir," replied the boy. "Well," said 
 Ferrand, " get your supper, and then come 
 to me again. 1 want to have a talk with 
 you.* 
 
 " Very well, sir ; but 1 know that Mrs,
 
 144 WRECKER'S GKAXIM HIU>. 
 
 ( i ili-s would like yon to eat something. You 
 ai'nt sick, are yon, Lieutenant Ferrand?" 
 
 " Xo ; only tired. Go, now ; but don't 
 forget to come again, after awhile." Hugh, 
 accordingly, went away to his supper, but 
 made that meal much shorter than usual, 
 from a wish to hear as soon as possible, what 
 it was that Lieutenant Ferrand had to say to 
 him. On going to his room again, he found 
 him seated in an old-fashioned, high-backed, 
 arm-chair, which, as one of the few articles 
 ot luxury that Giles's cottage contained, had 
 been placed in the honored boarder's apart- 
 ment. Ferrand commenced the conversa- 
 tion immediately, by saying, Hugh, you are 
 growing to be a very tall boy. In a few 
 years, you will be a man.- But, have you any 
 idea what you intend to be, when you grow 
 ii]) r 
 
 ".No, &ir," answered Hugh, earnestly,
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 145 
 
 " I've thought of it, many a time ; but still 
 I feel just like somebody that's walking 
 through a thick fog, and can't see two steps 
 before him !" 
 
 " That is pretty much the case with me," 
 said Ferrand with an involuntary sigh. " But 
 you wouldn't wish to be a wrecker, like these 
 men around us ?" 
 
 Hugh did not answer immediately, for this 
 question had, of late, been puzzling him a great 
 deal. Ever since he first knew Lieutenant 
 Fcmind, he had regarded him as a faultless 
 model of conduct, and as one who had at- 
 tained the highest perfection that human 
 nature can read i. When his "bright par- 
 ticular star" became the leader of the wreck- 
 ers, Hugh did not presume to doubt that 
 now, as ever, the Lieutenant was doing the 
 best thing possible. But, since Marianna 
 had given Him aunt ^Naomi's Bible, Hugh 
 13
 
 1-M', WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 had been studying it diligently, and, several 
 times had visited the island, to obtain !Mari- 
 annu's u5stance in finding out the meaning 
 of passages which perplexed him. He soon 
 perceived that from the eighth command- 
 ment in the Old Testament to the Golden 
 Rule in the Xew, the wreckers were break- 
 ing all the laws of God, and he began to feel 
 like Bunyan's Pilgrim when he first discov- 
 ered that his dwelling was in the city of 
 Destruction. Yet how was he to reconcile 
 the teachings of the Bible, in this respect, 
 with his rooted opinion of Lieutenant F er- 
 rand's infallibility I It was no wonder that, 
 when the Lieutenant himself called upon 
 him to settle this delicate question, poor 
 Hugh at first, was silent and confused, and 
 that his face turned a very deep scarlet. 
 " Tell me," repeated Lieutenant Ferrand,
 
 147 
 
 " do von wish to grow up to be a wrecker, 
 like those around us?" 
 
 " Why, sir, what else can I be, if I stay 
 here," said Hugh. " And I'm sure I want 
 to stay here as long as you do." 
 
 " But you shall not," emphatically rejoined 
 Ferrand. " If you stay here, you will come 
 to IK a lawless ruffian, with very little more 
 sense or feeling than the rocks in yonder 
 reef. I find that I myself have committed 
 a great mistake by consenting to become 
 mixed up with these wreckers ; but if T can 
 help it, you shall not be ruined by my folly.'" 1 
 
 "But what would you want me to do, 
 sir?" asked Hugh. 
 
 " I will send you," answered Ferrand, " to 
 your mother's relations, in Tallahassee, and 
 they must put you in the way of learning to 
 make a decent and honest living." 
 
 "Oh, Lieutenant Ferrand," ejaculated
 
 WRECKER fi 
 
 Hugh, with a full heart. "we have been to- 
 gether so long in good days and in. bad !" 
 
 "I know it," said Lieutenant Ferrand, 
 "and I have ever foniul yon a good and faith- 
 ful boy. But now to see you staying for 
 my sake, among these wreckers, growing into 
 their ways, and learning nothing that is good, 
 would only make me more unhappy than I 
 am. If you wish to comfort me. or give me 
 pleasure, leave this nest of thieves, and let 
 me hear that you are making for yourself a 
 place among respected and honorable men. 
 Will you do this >" 
 
 " Yes sir; I will," answered Hugh, with 
 a powerful effort. 
 
 "That is right," said Ferrand. "Go, now, 
 bundle up your clothes, and be ready to leave 
 this place early to-morrow morning. ]>ut 
 just before you start, let me have another 
 word with voii/'
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 1 9 
 
 Hugh bent his head, in silence, and left 
 the presence of Lieutenant Ferrand. 
 
 The next morning he stood before the 
 Lieutenant again, dressed for his journey, 
 and with a bundle of clothing in his hand. 
 Ferrand gave him some directions as to the 
 route which he should travel. He then put 
 into young Ross's hand a few gold pieces, 
 which were all the money he possessed, 
 though he did not inform Hugh of this 
 fact. 
 
 " Now," said he, "only be steady and in- 
 dustrious, and you may hope for a contented 
 and comfortable life, perhaps a great and 
 noble one. Don't be sorry that you are be- 
 ginning the world as a poor boy, with noth- 
 ing but God and your own hands to depend 
 upon ! Be thankful that you have no chance 
 to waste all the spring of your life, as T have 
 done, in idleness, and amusement, and to find 
 13*
 
 150 WREOKK.KV UKANJM IIIIJ). 
 
 yourself at three and thirty, without any par- 
 ticular way of earning your support, ami 
 with habits that unfit yon for plain and hon- 
 est labor! ?so, Hugh; I hope that you 
 will be able to giye in a better account. 
 Good-bye." 
 
 He extended his hand. Hugh elapsed it 
 in both bis own, and for two or three minutes 
 pressed it tightly against his heart. He then 
 released that band, which bad never touclu <! 
 him except in kindness, and murmuring, 
 "Good-bye sir," moved toward the door. 
 Suddenly be stopped; leaned against the wall 
 and placed one arm across his face. Those 
 were no idle, boyish teniv ! 
 
 Hugh felt that he was now, in all likeli- 
 hood, parting* forever from that friend whom 
 he had so admired, reverenced, and loved. 
 
 He knew that his departure would leave 
 Lieutenant Fenrand in the midst of that
 
 WRECKER'S OKAND-CHILD. 151 
 
 rude and uncongenial band of wreckers, 
 without a single face to look upon that had 
 become familiar to him in happier days. It 
 was but a few moments that Hugh gave way 
 entirely, and then he fairly ran from the 
 room, and out of the house.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 HUGH DISAPPEARS, FOR THE PRESENT. TEB- 
 
 RIBLE STORM AND WRECK OF A STEAM- 
 SHIP. LIEUTENANT FERRAND AND 
 
 MARIANNA FIND GREAT TREAS- 
 URES IN THE OCEAN. 
 
 Lieutenant Ferrand's directions, 
 Giles was waiting in a small boat, 
 'to convey Hugh for some distance 
 along the coast. 
 
 As the boat put off, Hugh looked towards 
 Yon Ulden's island, and saw Marianna stand- 
 ing upon the shore. He had no chance to 
 bid her adieu in words, but he took off his 
 hat, waved it towards her, and then drew 
 from his bundle, and held up in her sight, 
 the Bible which she had given him. 
 
 (158)
 
 154 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 Marianna waved her hand in return, un- 
 derstanding that Hugh was going away, 
 though she imagined that he would not he 
 absent long. 
 
 Towards sunset, the next day, Marianna 
 crossed over to the main-land, in order to 
 purchase some tobacco for her grandfather's 
 smoking, which was his chief means of pass- 
 ing away time. After she had procured the 
 tobacco, the wrecker's wife from whom she 
 bought it, insisted upon her eating some fine 
 strawberries, which she set before her. Then, 
 as it was fast growing dark, Marianna started 
 off towards the little boat which had brought 
 her from the island. But the sky had now 
 become overspread with huge black clouds, 
 and a breeze was blowing which caused every 
 tree-leaf and grass-blade to tremble and shud- 
 der, as if in dread of the coming storm. 
 Just as Marianna came to the beach, a loud
 
 WRKrKKR's <; HAND-CHILD. 1 55 
 
 peal of thunder was lizard, and the red light- 
 ning, with its zig-zag line, shot through the 
 sal le clouds like a swift -falling stream of 
 liquid tire. 
 
 " Oh, Peter,'- exclaimed Marianna to the 
 colored hoy, who was just about getting into 
 the boat, "do you think we can reach the 
 island before the storm conies on?" 
 
 Peter shook his head with a grave and 
 doubtful look, but aceomodatingly replied, 
 " Don't know, Miss ; just as you say." 
 
 " No ; you are in my dominions, now, 
 and I have something co say about it," smil- 
 ingly remarked Lieutenant Ferrand, who had 
 come up unobserved. "Get out of that 
 boat, Peter, and draw it up on shore. Miss 
 Marianna will not attempt to go across until 
 the storm is over." 
 
 "But," said Marianna, "I am afraid that 
 my grandfather will be uneasy about me, if
 
 15ft WRECKERS GRAND-C1IELD. 
 
 I don't conic home soon. He might think 
 that I had tried to cross, and that something 
 had happened to the boat." 
 
 " He would think so, and then find out 
 that he had made only too true a gue, if 
 you did attempt to cross," rejoined Lieuten- 
 ant Ferrand. 
 
 At this moment, Marianna saw the widow 
 woman, who did tha heaviest house-work of 
 Von Ulden's family, come down to the island 
 shore. She saw upon the opposite beach the 
 person for whom she was looking, and 
 screamed out, at the top of her voice, " Miss 
 ALirianna, don't try to come over until the 
 storm's done!" 
 
 " Xo, she will not," called out Lieutenant 
 Ferrand, in reply. 
 
 Just then, there arose such a wind as im- 
 1 11 jd lately took off Peter's hat and carried it 
 out to teua, and which would have made Ma-
 
 WBECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 15 T 
 
 rianna and the Lieutenant undergo similar 
 losses, if they had not seized hold of their hats 
 at the critical moment. The widow ran back 
 to Yon Ulden's house as fast as she could, 
 and Mrs Giles, coming to the door of the 
 cottage, cried out, " Come in here, Miss Ma 
 rianna, quick ! Lieutenant, hadn't you bet- 
 ter come in ?" 
 
 \Lirianna at once accepted the invitation, 
 and took the chair which Old Giles placed 
 for her in the sitting room of the cottage. 
 Mrs. Giles sat down near her, and knit- 
 ted at a blue yarn stocking while she talk- 
 ed about the weather, and other such com- 
 mon-place subjects. Lieutenant Ferrand, 
 when lie came in, placed himself by one of 
 the windows, and looked out upon the 
 gathering storm. Xight seemed to come 
 more quickly than usual, and it was a night 
 without a ray from moon or star. Oan- 
 14
 
 158 WRECKER'S .;I:.\M>-< IIILP. 
 
 Jles were lighted in Giles's dwelling and the 
 other cottages, and the wreckers looked forth 
 eagerly, in the hope that some sad misfortune 
 to their fellow beings might bring a little 
 worldly profit to them. There were fre- 
 quent peals of thunder, and vivid Hashes of 
 lightning, that gave a red tinge to the dusky 
 waves of the troubled ocean, and showed 
 their white crests of boiling foam. But now, 
 when the thunder's voice was silent for a lit- 
 tle while, another booming sound was heard. 
 The wreckers quickly recognized the minute 
 guns of some vessel in distress. At the next 
 lightning Hash, all eyes eagerly scanned the 
 i, ji:id a steam vessel was seen, driven 
 along towards the coast by the furious power 
 of wind and wave. The huge surges that 
 dashed over her decks, and the violence with 
 which she was pitched from side to side,
 
 WRECKER'S GRAXD-CIIILD. 159 
 
 showed how terrifying and full of confusion 
 must be the situation of those on board. 
 
 Two of the wreckers entered Giles's cot- 
 tage, and one of them, in a jovial mood, said 
 to Lieutenant Ferrand, " Eh, Commodore, I 
 guess there'll soon be some pickings off that 
 big vessel !" 
 
 Ferrand made no reply, but looked at him 
 with, contempt, and then, starting up, went 
 forth into the dark and stormy night, The 
 steamer 4iad been driven nearer to the 
 coast, and suddenly a loud crash was heard,, 
 amidst the noise of the winds and waters. 
 At the same instant, there went up a shriek 
 of agony from hundreds of human voices, 
 and words of earnest supplication to God 
 were wrung from the hearts of many who,, 
 when they were safe at home, had mocked at 
 the thought of prayer. 
 
 All of the wreckers hurried to the beach,,
 
 WKKCKKR > (rRAMM HILI). 
 
 :::id many of their wives went with them, no 
 
 less fearless than their husbands, and no less 
 eager in their desire for plunder. 
 
 Others like Marianna and Mrs. Giles, re- 
 mained in their cottages, hut pressed their 
 faces against the window-panes, in an en- 
 deavor to see out upon the darkened ocean. 
 Presently, another lightning flash displayed 
 to all eyes a fearful sight. The foundering 
 steamer lay helplessly upon the rocks, and 
 her deck was covered with men, women, and 
 children, calling wildly for help. Again the 
 black darkness wrapped them all up, and 
 oli, how dee}) a gloom was that, to those poor 
 ship- wrecked sulierors ! Marianna, pale, 
 -trembling, and heart-sick, wrung her hands 
 in an agony of sympathy, and then clasped 
 ihom tightly together, as she leaned against 
 the frame of the window } y wliir'h she stood. 
 
 " Oh,'" said she to herself, " if the poor
 
 101 
 
 people on board that ship would only think 
 of doing as annt Xaomi told me to do, when 
 grandfather's vessel was wrecked ! They 
 would not feel so much afraid if, instead of 
 looking at the foundering vessel, or the terri- 
 ble sea, they looked right up to God !" 
 
 Marianna resolved that she herself would 
 do this, and turning her gaze away from the 
 window, she poured out her soul in supplica- 
 tion to God for those who were in such fear- 
 ful peril. 
 
 Just then, another lightning flash showed 
 to Ferrand, and the other lookers on, that 
 the steamer was rapidly going to pieces, and 
 not only fragments of wreck were tossing 
 on the waves, but also the struggling bodies 
 of a number of human beings, who had been 
 washed oil' the deck. 
 
 Ferrand had been silent all along, for he 
 knew, that, without ik life-boats,'' it would be 
 U*
 
 162 WRECKER'S <;K.VMM:IHU>. 
 
 impossible to reach the steamer. But, at the 
 sight of those drowning victims, he could no 
 longer control himself. 
 
 " AVhat are yon going to do, sir ?" exclaimed 
 the old sailor. " How will drowning jour- 
 self help them ?" 
 
 Ferrand was silent for a moment, and then 
 ordered the wreckers who were nearest to 
 him to bring two large coils of rope. 
 
 At his command, two men took hold of 
 one end of a rope, while the other end was 
 flung out upon the sea, towards the nearest 
 of those who were struggling in the waves. 
 
 The other rope was managed l>y Lieuten- 
 ant Ferrand and Giles, but the first, second, 
 and third efforts that were nude to throw 
 the lines within reach of any of the sufferers 
 proved unsuccessful. Then, a man succeeded 
 in catching one of the ropes, and was drawn 
 on shore alive, though greatly exhausted.
 
 THE RESCUE. Page 163.
 
 WUKCKKRti 
 
 A few minutes afterwards, the lightning's 
 glare showed, tlio winte-elad figure of a 
 woman, driven along through the water, 
 with a child clasped in her arms. She had 
 on a life-preserver, which prevented her from 
 sinking, but she could not resist the power 
 of the waves, which carried her along, not 
 towards the. shore, hut parallel with it, 
 at a short distance off. The poor lady was 
 too faint and dizzy to utter any cry, and it 
 was easv to see that the manner in which 
 the water kept dashing over them would 
 soon drown hoth her and the child. 
 
 In a moment, Lieutenant Ferrand tied . 
 curely around his own waist, one end of tin 
 rope which he was helping to hold. Giles 
 and another then grasped the opposite end, 
 and Ferraiid plunged into the breakers. 
 
 The big waves caught him and swept him 
 wildly along, while he was almost suffocated
 
 GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 by the spray which dashed into his face. 
 He saw the gleam of white garments through 
 the darkness, sprang forward and seized 
 them, and found that he had hold of the 
 mother and child whom he was so anxious to 
 >;tve. " Pull me in," he shouted. In a few 
 moments he was dragged on shore, holding 
 the insensible woman in a clasp not less res- 
 olute and faithful than that with which she 
 held her little child. Pausing but for a 
 moment, to recover his breath, Ferrand car- 
 ried the mother and child together to Giles's 
 cottage. As their clothing was soaked and 
 streaming with water, he laid them upon a 
 wooden settle, until they should be relieved 
 of their wet garments. There, senseless and 
 pale, they lay, and the mother's long bi'own 
 hair, all loose and drenched, trailed down up- 
 on the iloor. Before he left her to the kind- 
 ness of Mis. (riles, Lieutenant Ferrand cast
 
 WBECKKB 8 UKAND-CIIILD. ]>;> 
 
 one anxious glance at the lady's face, to !>c 
 certain that life yet remained. In saving 
 her life, he had much over-taxed his bodily 
 strength, though he did not feel it at the 
 time. 
 
 And now he made a discovery which, com- 
 ing immediately after that terrible battle 
 with the waves, completely overpowered him. 
 He suddenly became unconscious, and would 
 have fallen to the floor, if Giles had not 
 caught and supported him. He was carried 
 to his own room, and, as no one suspected 
 the true cause of his fainting, Giles felt afraid 
 that the Lieutenant had received some severe 
 hurt, in being dragged upon the shore. 
 
 Mrs. Giles and Marianna were now left 
 alone with the half-drowned lady and child, 
 and in looking at the affecting sight before 
 her, the wrecker's wife became a kind and 
 pitying woman, Xever, since aunt Naomi's
 
 UiC WRECKERS GRANIM IIILI. 
 
 death, had Marianna had her inmost heart 
 so thrilled as it was now. Her hands quivered 
 with agitation, while she assisted Mrs. Giles 
 in removing the wet clothing of the sufferers. 
 
 As a devout Catholic girl, in similar cir- 
 cumstances, might have invoked her favorite 
 saints, so Marianna, without knowing that 
 she spoke aloud, kept uttering such ejacula- 
 tions as " Dear Jesus, spare them ! Let them 
 live ! Teach us what to do for them !" 
 
 Soon the ship-wrecked lady, dressed in a 
 coarse, hut snow-white night-gown, lay upon 
 Mrs. Giles's bed, still in an unconscious state. 
 Her long brown tresses were spread out up- 
 on the pillow, on either side of a face whose 
 features were so delicate, and fair, and pale, 
 and so full of pure and sweet expression, 
 that Marianna felt as if she were gazing up- 
 on the slumbers of a seraph. The little girl 
 had already regained her consciousness, for
 
 1(57 
 
 a mother's arms had been some shelter to her, 
 even against the roughness of the waves. 
 She was not quite three years old, and her 
 age and circumstances strongly recalled to 
 Marianna that scene in her own life which, 
 though it had happened so long ago, could 
 never he lost to memory. How could she 
 help thinking of the time when she, but 
 little older than this child, had heen cast 
 by shipwreck upon the same coast ? The 
 first use which the little girl made of her re- 
 covered voice was to call again and again 
 upon her mamma, and beg her to u wake 
 np," and then, finding that no answer was 
 returned, she began to cry pite<n:.-!y. !Ma- 
 riannaheld the child in her arms, and by 
 her caresses and loving words, succeeded 
 in partly soothing its agitation. 
 
 Presently, the mother heaved a faint sigh, 
 unclosed a pair of clear, mild, hazel eyes, and
 
 1<-^ WRECKER'S GRANIM itiijt. 
 
 looked around. Marianna immediately plac- 
 ed the little girl upon the bed, beside her, and 
 the child full of joy at meeting once more its 
 mother's tender gaze, twined its arms about 
 her neck, and kissed her again and again. 
 Instantly the mother's arms were around 
 her little girl, a smile of rapture lighted np 
 her face, her eyes were raised to Heaven, 
 and her lips moved, though no sound was 
 heard by mortal ears. But the happiness of 
 that moment was too great for her weakened 
 frame ; her head fell upon the little child's 
 shoulder, and she again became ii^ensible. 
 This time, however, she soon revived again, 
 and lay gazing at her little girl, and receiving 
 her caresses, with a smile of tranquil joy, 
 though two large tears were stealing gentlj 
 down her cheeks. 
 
 Marianna, in the warmth of her heart, em- 
 braced aud kissed the unknown lady, and
 
 WBECKEKS GRAND-CHILD. 1H 
 
 told her how glad she was to see her so far 
 recovered. 
 
 " Thank von, dear sweet girl," was the af- 
 fectionate reply ; " you are as good as you 
 are lovely." 
 
 Both the mother and the child, tired out MS 
 they were, soon dropped into a sound and 
 refreshing sleep. While she and Marianna 
 were watching them, Mrs. Giles heard some 
 one enter the outer room of the cottage, and, 
 going to see who it was, she met Lieutenant 
 Ferrand. 
 
 "Ah, how do you feel, now, sir !" asked 
 Mrs. Giles ; " you seemed faintish, a little 
 while ago." 
 
 "I am well," said he, hastily. "How is 
 my wife ?" 
 
 " Your wife, sir !" 
 
 "Yes! That lady, tell me, how is 
 she?" 
 
 15
 
 170 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 Why. the lady and her little girl are 
 both getting along nicely. But, you don't 
 mean to say, Lieutenant, that this is "Mis. 
 Ferrand C' 
 
 " It is, indeed," answered he, " though 
 little did I dream of its being my own wife 
 .and child that I was carrying through the 
 breakers !" He covered his face with his 
 hands for a conple of moments, and then, 
 looking up with sudden animation, exclaimed, 
 *' Hut now I mnst see them !" 
 
 " AVell, I wouldn't to-night. Lieutenant, if 
 I \\vre y< u." said ^Mis. (iih->. "You know 
 the lady, Mrs. Ferrand.- is most wore ont 
 bv what she's gone through with, and she 
 iind the little girl have just dropped into a 
 nice, sweet sleep, that'll do them more good 
 than a bushel of medicine." 
 
 " I will not wake them," said Ferrand, 
 " only let me see them."
 
 GRAND-CHILD. li 
 
 " Very well, sir ; but step easy,'' saict 
 Mrs. Giles, leading the way into the other 
 room. 
 
 For several minutes, Ferrand stood gazing 
 upon his wife and child, in motionless silence, 
 while Mrs. Giles, in a whisper told Marian- 
 iia of the strange discovery that had been 
 made. 
 
 u Oh, it is wonderful," whispered Marian- 
 iia, " but God can do anything." 
 
 At length Ferrand roused himself, and 
 noiselessly placing a chair by the bed-side, 
 said in a low tone, to Mrs. Giles, " I will sit 
 and watch by them here to-night." 
 
 Mrs. Giles and Marianna accordingly 
 withdrew to their own places of rest for the 
 night. Ferrand sat for hours, gazing with a 
 host of thoughts and emotions, upon his 
 sleeping treasures, and it was not till near 
 morning that, overcome by fatigue, his head
 
 172 WKKCKKIJ 8 GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 isiink down in slumber upon the same pillow 
 where reposed his little girl. 
 
 Marianna lay awake lor a good while, 
 thinking over the strange events? of the night. 
 Already she felt that she should enjoy a good 
 deal of pleasure in the company of Mi>. 
 FeriMiid and her little girl, and rejoitv.! over 
 them as two pure, bright jewel.-, cast by the 
 waves of ocean upon that wild and almost 
 savage coast.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 AFTER THE STORM. BLANCHE FERRAND DIS- 
 COVERS THAT HER HUSBAND IS A WRECK- 
 ER PLEASANT CHANGES TAKE PLACE 
 
 IN MABI ANNA'S HOME. 
 
 morning, the sky was blue and 
 sunny as ever before, and the ocean 
 lay in smooth and bright repose. 
 The trees and grass wore a fresher green after 
 the last night's rain, and on Yon TTlden's 
 island, the orange blossoms, and wax-like 
 magnolias, scattered around a richer perfume 
 than usual. 
 
 But, on the white sand of the beach oppo- 
 site that island, lay here and there the bodies 
 of drowned men, women and children. 
 Some had, the day before, been poor and 
 humble, and others rich and proud, but there- 
 lo* (178 )
 
 174 WKECXEIi's GKAN1MJ11ILJ). 
 
 were no such distinctions among them now. 
 The great and only difference was, that nune 
 out <>f the blackness of that stormy night 
 had soared up to the eternal noonday of 
 Heaven, and others, when they sank beneath 
 the sea, went down into that dark and fear- 
 ful abyss from which lost souls shall never 
 rise again. But, without one thought of 
 the awful lesson before their eyes, the wreck* 
 er> walked along the beach, and greedily 
 gathered up what articles of value had been 
 w;i>lu-d ashore that morning. During al- 
 must the whole of the previous night, they 
 had been busy, by the light of pine torches, 
 in collecting the spoils of the wreck. Even 
 the children now ran along the shore, pick- 
 ing up what they could, and laughing and 
 shouting with more than usual gaiety. 
 
 All night, Blanche Kerrand's dream* had 
 been, that she and her child were once more
 
 WRECKER'S OR AXD-CII i r,u. 1 7. r 
 
 re-united with the husband and father ; and 
 when, in the morning, she awoke, and found 
 him indeed watching over them, it was a mo- 
 ment of wild, unutterable joy, yet mixed 
 with a fear that this too might be only a 
 dream. She did not give one thought to the 
 feet that all her Avorldly possessions had been 
 on bo;trd of the wrecked steamer, and were 
 now, most probably, at the bottom of the 
 sea. Her husband and child were the only 
 earthly objects upon which her heart was 
 set, and they, thanks to the all-merciful 
 One, were now safe and well, beside her. 
 
 Marianna at the first dawn of morning, 
 had hastened over to the island, to assure 
 her grandfather of her safety, and to be 
 scolded by him for being caught in the 
 storm while on the mainland, though he 
 knew perfectly well that she could not pos- 
 siblv avoid it. After taking breakfast with
 
 170 WRECKER'S OUA.MM-HILD. 
 
 her grandfather, Mariamia cleared off the 
 
 table, and washed and put away the dixies. 
 She then changed her dress, put on her h:it, 
 and promising her grandfather that she would 
 soon return, crossed over to the mainland, to 
 >ee how Mrs. Ferrand and her little girl 
 were. The gush of happiness which she 
 felt at finding herself, her husband and child 
 once more re-united, seemed to restore al- 
 most immediately Blanche's bodily strength, 
 and Marianna found her sitting up in the 
 great, high-backed arm chair in Lieutenant 
 Kerrand's room. She wore a flowing white 
 gown, her hair was neatly braided, and Ma- 
 i lamia now, for the first time, had the op- 
 portunity of judging how very neat and 
 pleading was Mrs. Ferrand's appearance. 
 The granddaughter of Von Ulden im- 
 mediately hastened up to Blanche, exclaim- 
 ing, "Dear Mrs. Ferrand, I'm so glad to find
 
 WKKCKEJj's G HAND-CHILD. 177 
 
 that yon are not sick, after that terrible last 
 night !" 
 
 Blanche cordially returned her kiss and 
 embrace, and said to her husband, who sat 
 beside her, " This is another great pleasure 
 for me, in finding here such a dear girl as 
 Maria." 
 
 "Marianna" gently observed the Lien- 
 tenant, by way of correction. " Well," was 
 the smiling reply, " I think I have already 
 learned her nature, if not her name, and a 
 charming nature it is." 
 
 After a moment's pause, Mrs. Ferrand's 
 countenance suddenly clouded over, with an 
 expression of sadness, and in a low voice, 
 she said, " Frank, there is one thing that I 
 would wish to know, and yet I am afraid to 
 hear it. Of all the people who woke up, 
 well and cheerful, on board that steamer, 
 yesterday morning, how many are there now
 
 17^ \VKK<;KKK'S GKANIM IIILD. 
 
 living upon earth, besides Bessie and me C " 
 lk Indeed, I do not know, as yet," answered 
 Lieutenant Ferrand, "but we cannot help 
 knowing this, that only a few, a very few 
 ;>f them can possibly have any more of this 
 world's storms to go through with." 
 
 There was a silence for some minutes, and 
 then Lieutenant and Mrs. Ferrand began to 
 converse about the impressive fact that 
 Blanche and her child were among the very 
 few that were rescued, and that the appointed 
 means of their rescue was a husband and a 
 father's arm. Marianna had taken little 
 I>e>siu upon her lap, and was busied in pet- 
 ting and admiring her. She was a plump 
 :md healthy child, and her face had that 
 dimpled roundness which \ve all like to see 
 in little ones of her age. Her complexion, 
 like her mother's was most delicately fair ; 
 but the form of her features, her eyes, so
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. I 79 
 
 darkly blue, and fringed with such long jet- 
 ty lashes, and the "blackness of her hair, gave 
 her a strange resemblance to Lieutenant Fer- 
 rand. Seeing that the child's hair had been 
 trained to cluster in thick short curls, Marian- 
 na employed herself in arranging it so, and 
 then viewed with delight the contrast which 
 those curls afforded to Bessie's pink cheeks, 
 and her brow and neck of purest white. 
 The little one had a very slight idea of the 
 danger in which she and her mother had 
 been, the night before, and she did not see 
 anything strange in her father's being with 
 them again. On the morning just before 
 the shipwreck, her mother had promised her 
 that they should " soon see Papa," and Bessie 
 had full faith in that promise. 
 
 AsMarianna had told her grandfather that 
 she wo.nld soon return, she was obliged, in M
 
 l v '> WRECKERS <;K.v\]-riiiu,>. 
 
 little while, to bid good-bye t-> Mr>. Ferrand 
 and Bessie, and go back to the island. 
 
 A few moments after she had gone, the 
 wreckers came crouching into Giles's cot- 
 tage, bringing with them the things which 
 they had secured from the wreck, and which 
 they now wished to have fairly divided 
 among them. 
 
 Mrs. Fcrrand was >tartled to hear through 
 a thin woo;U>n partition, those loud and 
 rough voices, uttering oaths, rude contra- 
 dictions. and expressions of unfeeling tri- 
 umph over the (quantity of plunder which 
 they had gained. "Where's the ('oiiinio- 
 uorc f was frequently asked in boistemu.- 
 tones. 
 
 * For whom are all those men asking f 
 inquired Mrs. Ferrand, looking with won- 
 der, at I 1 ."! 1 husband. 
 
 "For me/' answered Ferrand, forcing a
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 181 
 
 smile, but at the same time feeling his face 
 suffused with that painful blush which comes 
 when, before those whom we most respect 
 and love, we are compelled to own that the 
 low and degraded are our companions. 
 
 Seeing with what intense anxiety Blanche 
 was gazing at him, Ferrand went on to say, 
 with assumed cheerfulness, " These fellows 
 have made me a sort of judge over them, 
 and as they are willing to carry out almost 
 any orders that I choose to give, they call 
 me their Commodore. I must go, now, and 
 see what I can do for them." 
 
 Accordingly, he went into the other room, 
 and the clamor of the wreckers subsided in- 
 to something as much like quietness as could 
 be expected from a party of such rude and 
 uncultivated men. Among the articles 
 which they had secured was a trunk belong- 
 ing to Mrs. Ferrand, and marked with 
 16
 
 182 \VK1X: KKIi's GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 her name, and this was given to herhusband 
 as a part of his share. As usual, there were 
 articles among the plunder that caused, be- 
 tween certain of the wreckers, disputes which 
 it taxed all their Commodore's ingenuity 
 and his patience also to settle. At length, 
 the division was made, and the wreckers, 
 some with satisfaction, and some with sulki- 
 ness, each carried off his share. Ferrand 
 and Giles then took hold of Blanche's trunk, 
 and brought it into the room where she was. 
 
 " AVell, dear, you and Bessie will have some 
 clothes now,*' said the Lieutenant, smiling. 
 
 Blanche tried to smile in return, but her 
 heart was too anxious in regard to a far more 
 important subject. As soon as Giles had left 
 the room, she said to her husband, inquir- 
 ingly, " And these men are wreckers C ' 
 
 " Yes ;" replied he, " but, Blanche, you 
 must not suppose, as many people do, that
 
 WRECKER'S <;KAMM;HIM>. 183 
 
 a man cannot be a wrecker without being a 
 robber !" 
 
 " Ob," said Blanche, with an accent of dis- 
 tress, " the very conversation of those men 
 shows that they are wicked, lawless, and har- 
 dened ; and it bewilders me to try to think 
 how you, Frank, can be willing to live among 
 such people." 
 
 Ferrand had expected some such remon- 
 strance as this, and yet, when it came, it cut 
 none the less deeply. Throwing himself in- 
 to a chair, with that affected carelessness cf 
 manner witli which people sometimes try to 
 hide real despair, he said, " I cannot help it. 
 I would rather get my living and yours from 
 wreckers, than from cert.mi kind relations of 
 ours. I have failed in every tiling, and now, 
 we cannot be so fastidious." 
 
 " Dear Frank, don't say so ! T care nothing 
 for a large house, line furniture, or cosily
 
 184: WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 -es ; for as long 1 as we have free con- 
 sciences, unspotted names, and the right to 
 claim God as our friend, I feel that we aiv 
 rich, and I am happy. But to lose our 
 peace within, our self-respect, to lose the 
 privilege of asking God to help us, even in 
 our extremest need, Oh, tlmt is poverty!" 
 As Blanche spoke thus earnestly, she held 
 her husband's hand clasped in. both of hers, 
 and large bright drops, from the heart's in- 
 most fountains flowed rapidly down her 
 cheeks. I'Yrrund was deeply moved, and 
 yet he thought it would heighten his wife's 
 distress if he owned that he was really en- 
 gaged in a pursuit which went against his 
 conscience. Neither would he let her know 
 under what circumstances he had becomethe 
 leader of the wreckers. He knew that it 
 would only increase her hormr of them to 
 be told that when he was tirst thrown
 
 WRECKER'S GKAMM-IIILD. 185 
 
 among them, they had plundered him of 
 everything, and threatened t<> h.ing him. 
 While lie was casting al.mit in hit- mind for 
 something to say, there was a rap at the room 
 door. Mrs. Ferrand wiped away lier tears, 
 and the Lieutenant went to the door, and 
 opened it. 
 
 Mrs. (riles was there, and she informed 
 the Lieutenant that a lady, who had escaped 
 from the wreck, wished to see Mrs. Ferrand. 
 The lady was immediately invited to come 
 in, and proved to he a Mrs. Stillirigwell, 
 whom .Blanc-he had found, during the voy- 
 age, a very pleasant and intelligent acquaint- 
 ance. They met now, as old and intimate 
 friends meet, after he ing long parted, so 
 gladdening was it to see any survivor from 
 last night's scene of death. Yet Mrs. Still- 
 ingwell had a sorrowful story to tell. Her 
 eldest son, a lad of seventeen, had been with 
 16*
 
 186 WKEClvEK's GKAND-CH1LU. 
 
 her on board the steamer, and had perished. 
 But he was a Christian youth, one of that 
 noble " Sabbath-school army," who in life, 
 are Christ's soldiers, in death, His witnes. 
 es. His mother knew that, from the d;irl\ 
 waves of a stormy ocean, he had risen to be 
 with those of whom it has truly been sung, 
 
 ' ; Their sorrows now are o'er ; 
 
 The sea is calm, the tempest past. 
 
 On that eternal shore." 
 
 Yet, there was one seemingly trifling inci- 
 dent, which that morning had sent a pang 
 through the freshly wounded and still 
 bleeding heart of the bereaved mother. Her 
 son, when he was drowned, -had on a beauti- 
 ful watch chain, which he greatly prized, and 
 which he had received from his mother as a 
 birth-day gift, two years before. While on 
 her way t<> see Mrs. Ferrand, Mrs. Stilling- 
 well noticed this chain, which her dead bov
 
 187 
 
 li:ul so dearly valued, worn as a necklace by 
 a sun-burned, rough-haired, bare-footed girl 
 of fourteen, wlio said that her mother got 
 it for her, after the wreck. Mrs. Stilling- 
 well told the girl that this chain had belonged 
 to her son, and begged that ifc might be re- 
 stored to her, but " Spunky Poll," as she 
 was generally called, answered by a rude and 
 saucy refusal. Mrs. Stillingwell sobbed bit- 
 terly as she related this affair to Mrs. Fer- 
 rand, and Blanche felt for her the sincerest 
 sympathy. 
 
 "Perhaps you can do something in this 
 case, Frank,"" said Blanche to her husband. 
 
 " I shall be very willing to tr," answered 
 Lieutenant Ferrand, and he immediately sent 
 u Spunky Poll," and her mother, a request 
 that they would come for a few minutes, to 
 Giles's cottage. In a short time they came, 
 and after nodding to Lieutenant Ferrand,
 
 !>* WRECKERS GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 >tared at his wife with intense curio>itv. 
 Little Bessie, having taken one look at the>e 
 strangers, ran and hid her face in her mother'.* 
 lap, alarmed by their wild and rough appear- 
 ance. Polly's mother was bare-footed also, 
 and never at any season of the year wore any 
 covering upon her head except her coarse 
 hair, which hung down her back in a sort of 
 loosely twisted rope. 1 1 er face was roughened 
 by exposure to all kinds of weather, but 
 this was a mere trifle compared with the un- 
 pleasantness of her expression, which was 
 harsh, and forbidding in the extreme. 
 
 Lieutenant Ferrand had always been con- 
 sidered as having more than common powers 
 of persuasion; and he now represented to 
 Polly and her mother, in the most moving 
 manner, the anxiety which Mrs. Stillingwcll 
 felt to take home with her the keepsake be- 
 longing to that son whom she had just lost.
 
 WKKCKKK'S GRAND-CHILD. I8t 
 
 Polly, however, clutched the chain with a 
 greedy look which showed that nothing 
 could weigh with her against the possession 
 of s;> fine an ornament ; and her mother 
 said, " Pshaw, Lieutenant, don't try to get 
 around ns with all this palaver ! I waded 
 out into the breakers at day-light this morn- 
 ing, and got that chain off the dead body, 
 that didn't care no more about chains nor 
 nothing; and so it was mine, 'cordin' to all 
 the wrecker's rules, and now I've give it to 
 Poll, it's Jiern" 
 
 "Well, Polly," said the Lieutenant^ kfc I 
 will buy this chain, if you will sell it to me. 
 You know the yacht is going to start oil this 
 morning, and when it comes back 1 shall 
 have some money. A string of red beads 
 would be much more becoming to you than 
 that chain is, and by selling it to me, you can
 
 190 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 get enough money to buy beads, ear-rings, 
 and a couple of gay dresses." 
 
 Polly was silent for a moment, and then, 
 in the tone of one who felt herself to be 
 much persecuted, she whimpered out, " But 
 I'd rather have this." 
 
 " So you shall have it," said her mother 
 with a fiercer look and tone ; " I didn't get 
 it for you to sell, and, if you let anybody 
 coax you out of it, I'll give you theawfullest 
 pounding that you ever had !" 
 
 Mrs. Stillingwell, during this conversation, 
 had been sitting in the farthest corner 
 of the room, with her face turned to 
 the wall, ancl she now said faintly, without, 
 looking round, " Lieutenant, it is useless for 
 you to take any more trouble about the 
 matter. Let these people go away." 
 
 At that moment, a new idea struck Mi s. 
 Ferrand. Forgetting her weak and wearied
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 11)1 
 
 state, she rose hastily from her chair, went 
 to the trunk which had heen returned to her 
 that morning, and kneeling down before it, 
 opened the lock by pressing a skillfully con- 
 trived spring. She then brought: out a long 
 and very elegant gold chain, and, holding it 
 up, said to Ferrand, " Frank, this was one of 
 your gifts to me, and I cannot part with it 
 except by your consent, but T know you will 
 consent for me to ransom with it that chain 
 of Mrs. Stillingwell." 
 
 " Certainly, dear, and T shall think all the 
 more of you for being willing to give it up, 
 for such a purpose as that," answered the 
 Lieutenant. 
 
 Polly and her mother both saw at once, 
 that Mrs. Ferrand's chain was a greater 
 prize than that which belonged to young 
 Still ingwell, but they were perfectly aston- 
 ished at what they considered the lady's folly
 
 I'.'i' WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 and simplicity, in making such a sacrifice. 
 P<lly strutted triumphantly away, with 
 Blanche's chain around her neck, and Mrs. 
 Stillingwell held in her hands, and pro.-ed 
 jigainst her heart, the loved memento of her 
 dead son. She felt so much gratitude and 
 attachment to Blanche that it seemed almost 
 impossible to part from her, and yet she was 
 obliged very soon to tear herself away. She 
 and the other survivors of the wreck, were 
 to go, that morning, on board of Ferrand's 
 yacht, and be conveyed to the nearest town 
 upon the coast 
 
 After Mrs. Stillingwell had gone, Blanche 
 reflected, in silence, for a little while, upon 
 the incident which we have just related, and 
 then she exclaimed, in a tone of sorrowful 
 significance, " Oh, Frank, if even the women 
 nl children among these wreckers are so 
 l.::r<:<'ned, what must the men be ?"
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 103 
 
 But Ferrand now brought up the excuse 
 which Giles had suggested to him when he 
 first came to Florida, and assured his wife 
 that he wished to stay among the wreckers, 
 for a while, with the hope of making them 
 better. Xow, Blanche knew that nothing 
 could effect this except the power of gospel 
 faith, and that as her husband himself was 
 not under its influence, he could not be ex- 
 pected to lead others to Jesus. But she only 
 said, " Well, dear, if you set about that good 
 work in Christ's name, and in God's own 
 way, it may prove successful." 
 
 At the same time, however, she could not 
 repress a sigh, which, betrayed her fear that 
 he was building upon a false foundation. 
 Ferrand himself, as we have seen, had begun 
 to doubt very strongly that he could do much 
 towards reforming the wreckers, and he eva- 
 sively replied, " Mv promise only binds me 
 17
 
 194 WKECKEK'S GRAM>- - I!II.I>. 
 
 to stay Lere for one year. But, wliat will 
 you and Bessie do, during tliat time I There 
 is no suitable home for you in this wild 
 place, and among these rough people."' 
 
 " I am resolved to stay here as long as you 
 do," answered Mrs. Ferrand ; " and it was 
 with that intention that I came to Florida, to 
 seek you." 
 
 Finding that this was Blanche's determi- 
 nation, Lieutenant Ferrand immediately set 
 about providing her with a more pleasant, 
 and more retired dwelling-place than Giles's 
 cottage. 
 
 They were talking over the subject that 
 afternoon, when Marianna came again, with 
 SL large bouquet of flowers for Mrs. Ferrand, 
 and a smaller one for Bessie. When Blanche 
 informed her of what she and the Lieuten- 
 ant had been talking, Marianna exclaimed, 
 " How delightful it would be, if you would
 
 WRECKKK'S (JKAXD-CHILD. 195 
 
 come and live in our house, on the island." 
 Mrs. Ferrand could see the island from her 
 room windows, and she thought that it would 
 indeed be a charming dwelling-place. The 
 Lieutenant remarked to Marianna, with a 
 smile, "I know that your grandfather could 
 not find any accommodations in his house for 
 me ; but I wish that you could take Blanche 
 and Bessie as boarders." 
 
 " Ah, yes !" said Marianna, " And who 
 knows but that such a thing may be 2 
 I shall try what can be done, anyhow. I 
 am going to persuade grandfather with all 
 my might, and I will do more than that ; I 
 will pray that we, who suit each other so 
 well, may have a home together." 
 
 Lieutenant Ferrand smiled at this, but 
 Blanche, with a look of earnest approval, 
 murmured, " Yes, dear Marianna." 
 
 After tea, that evening, Marianna sat
 
 down beside her grandfather, and told him 
 all about the rescue of Airs. Ferrand and her 
 <'hild from the ocean, on the preceding 
 niirht. The old man said nothing:, hut seemed 
 
 o ~ 
 
 to he absorbed in smoking his large pipe, 
 with its porcelain h<>\vl and ebony stem; 
 
 yet Murianna knew that he listened to her, 
 for anything like news was welcome when it 
 came to one who led such a tedious life as 
 did Von Uldcn. 
 
 " The little girl" continued Marianna, " is 
 nearly the age that I was, when we were 
 shipwrecked on this coast. It would have 
 put you in mind of that time grandfather, 
 if you had seen the little child when she 
 was brought into Giles's cottage, in her night 
 dress, all drenched with salt water." 
 
 k> I c.m remember ' that time,' well 
 enough,' 1 drily, yeiJiot harshly, answered the 
 old man.
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 197 
 
 "And Mrs. Ferrand," said Marianna, 
 " seems to me to be very much like what I 
 c.ni remember of my mother. Didn't mother 
 have soft brown hair, a pale complexion, and 
 a sweet heavenly look f ' 
 
 " Yes." answered Yon Ulden, in his mild- 
 est tone, for never had any creature 
 been more dear to him than his amiable 
 and affectionate daughter-in-law, Hariannafo 
 mother. 
 
 After a short pause, Marianna went on to 
 say, " Grandfather, since I've seen Mrs. Fer- 
 rand, I've been thinking how nice it would 
 be if I could have her company every day. 
 You know I have never had any companions, 
 because you didn't wish me to associate with 
 the girls about here, but she is so different 
 from all these people. And the little child 
 is so pretty, and cunning, and playful, that it 
 is a perfect treat just to watch her, and listen 
 17*
 
 1'.'^ \VKECKEB 8 G HAND-CHILD. 
 
 to her ! X'jw, grandfather, tliere is no suit- 
 able place about here for Mrs. Ferrand and 
 Be.-sie to live, unless they come to board 
 with us, and Mrs. Ferrand says that she 
 would be delighted if they could do BO." 
 
 Up to this point, Yon Ulden had listened 
 to his granddaughter with a great deal of pa- 
 tience, but now, tahlng the pipe out of his 
 mouth, and staring at her with angry aston- 
 ishment, he exclaimed, "What, have the 
 wife and child of that jackanapes Ferrand 
 here, so that he may be coining, every day 
 to my house, and putting on airs, in his char- 
 acter of " the new Commodore ?" If I do 
 anything of the kind, I wish I " 
 
 "But listen to me one moment, please, 
 grandfather,"' said Mariauna. " Lieutenant 
 Ferrand doesn't feel proud at all, of being 
 called "Commodore," by the wreckers, and 
 he told his wife, this afternoon, that he really
 
 WRECKER S GRAND-CHILD. !!>') 
 
 envied you, for being able .to live here, so 
 quiet and independent." 
 
 Yon Ulden was somewhat mollified by 
 this, but answered in a dogged tone, " I don't 
 care what he says. I hate the fellow, and I 
 don't want to see him, It's just like his im- 
 pudence, to think of quartering his family in 
 my house !" 
 
 " But grandfather," pleaded Marianna, " it 
 is for my sake that I want you to let Mrs. 
 Ferrand come here. I know that she is just 
 what you wish me to be, when I grow up, 
 and, if she was here, I could learn from her 
 a thousand things that I ought to know, if I 
 am to be a lady, as she is. Mrs. Ferrand 
 would be like a mother, or rather, like an 
 elder sister, to me, and Bessie would be such 
 an amusing playmate." 
 
 As Marianna finished speaking, she twined
 
 200 WKKrKKU s GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 her anus about the old man's neck, and 
 looked up entreatingly into his face. 
 
 Yon. Ulden was perplexed, for he could 
 not help feeling the force of what Marianna 
 had said, in regard to the advantages which 
 she would derive from Mrs. Ferrand's so 
 ciety. 
 
 But then came up his dislike to the Lieu- 
 tenant, and the author of evil suggested that 
 he would be acting weakly if he consented 
 to anything which would please "the new 
 Commodore." So liesaidto his granddaugh- 
 ter, in the tone of one who wishes to cut 
 short a puzzling argument, "I know what's 
 best for you, and for myself, too. Go to 
 bed, now, and don't plague me any more 
 about these Ferrands." 
 
 Marianna with a sigh, bade her grand- 
 father good-night and retired. Shu felt ut- 
 terly disappointed, until she remembered
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. '201 
 
 that there was still one resource left, that 
 of praying for what she desired. 
 
 Xext morning, Von Uldeii was surprised 
 to receive a visit from old Giles, who began 
 a conversation by complimenting him upon 
 the pleasant appearance of his dwelling, lie 
 then introduced the subject of taking Mrs. 
 Ferrand and little Bessie to board, and told 
 Voii Uldeii that if he would consent to do 
 this, the wreckers would compensate him by 
 furnishing enough provisions, of lirst class 
 quality, to support his whole family. It was 
 true, that at present there was not room 
 enough in the house for any extra- occupants, 
 but Lieutenant Ferrand would pay the ex- 
 penses of having two additional rooms put 
 up. 
 
 We have shown, in the first part of this 
 history, that Yon Ulden's ruling passion was 
 avarice, or the greed of gain ; and the
 
 "1(^1 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 meanness of this vice is proved by the fact 
 that, for the sake of having all the provisions 
 furnished for his family without any charge, 
 Von Ulden consented to that which he had 
 denied to the entreaties of his granddaughter, 
 the only living being for whom lie had any 
 affection ! Yet, unexpected as was this turn 
 of affairs, Marianna did not fail to recognize, 
 with joy and gratitude, the ruling hand of 
 that Providence which causes all things to 
 u work together for good to them that love 
 God." 
 
 The two additional rooms were quickly 
 put up, and this improvement to his house 
 was another gain on the side of Yon Ulden. 
 Xor was there any lack of furniture for the 
 whole house, as Yon Ulden had stored up a 
 quantity of articles of that kind, taken from 
 the cabins of wrecked vessels. 
 
 In a few davs, Mrs. Ferrand and her little
 
 WRECKERS GRAND-CHILD. 208 
 
 girl came to take up their abode on the is- 
 land, and their presence in the house formed 
 a novel and most pleasing change in the life 
 of Marianna.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 HOW MRS. FERRAND, BESSIE, AND MARIANNA, 
 
 LIVED TOGETHER ON THE ISLAND. WHAT 
 
 BLANCHE AND MARIANNA TALKED 
 
 OF. THERE COMES STILL ANOTHER 
 
 CHANGE. 
 
 , F we were to say that Mar i anna ex- 
 ,\{\^& 
 a)iift. erted herself to render Mrs. Ferrand 
 
 and her child comfortable and happy, 
 we should not be speaking correctly, for it 
 was no exertion to Von Ulden's granddaugh- 
 ter to show every possible kindness and at- 
 tention to those whose unexpected presence 
 in her house she regarded as such a blessing'. 
 It was not Mrs. Ferrand's disposition to give 
 others any trouble, if she could possibly help 
 it, and she sought for ways of making wmic 
 return for those services whic'h she was 
 
 18 (205)
 
 200 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 obliged to receive. In former days. Von 
 Udeii liad, at different times, secured from 
 the wrecks of vessels, whole bales of dry 
 good-, which furnished an ample wardrobe 
 for Marianna ; and there were still stored 
 away in a trunk, three or four pieces of goods 
 which had never been touched by scissors or 
 needle. Marianna, though a very good 
 seamstress in other respects, was no great 
 adept at dress-making, and the woman who 
 did the housework rarely had time to assist 
 her in such matters. But Mr.-. I'Vrrand had 
 plenty of leisure, and she- commenced mak- 
 ing clothing for Marianna, from the long ne- 
 glected ^oods, with a taste and skill which 
 struck the island girl with wonder and ad- 
 miration. 
 
 AVhenevcr Von Ulden met Mrs. Ferrand, 
 he gave- a nod of his head, without saying 
 anything, and when she spoke to him, he
 
 WRECKERS GRAND-CHILD. "20 i 
 
 made a. l>rief tliougR civil reply. Lieuten- 
 ant Ferrand had given Blanche warning that 
 the old man was surly and eccentric, but she 
 was not aware that Yon Ulden had any es- 
 pecial ill-will towards her husband. 
 
 About sunset, every day, the Lieutenant 
 came to see his wife and child, and, at that 
 time, Yon Ulden took care to be out of the 
 way, so as not to meet with the object of his 
 unreasonable dislike. If they met, by acci- 
 dent, the old man would immediately turn 
 away, without taking the slightest notice of 
 Ferrand, who, in return, pretended to be 
 just as unconscious of his presence, 
 
 The Lieutenant had told the wreckers that 
 Mrs. Ferrand was very delicate, and must be 
 kept as quiet as possible, and, accordingly, 
 none of them must ever come to the island 
 to speak with him. If they wished to see
 
 20fc WRECKERS GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 him. they should wait until he returned to 
 the main-land. 
 
 Ferrand, however, had more than one ob- 
 ject in giving this order. He was ashamed 
 of the wreckers, and of his transactions with 
 them, and he wished therefore, to keep them 
 out of Blanche's sight and hearing. 
 
 Mrs. Ferrand and Marianna talked a great 
 deal together, and never lost their interest 
 and pleasure in each other's company. It 
 would he hard to tell upon which side the 
 most wonder and admiration were felt, for 
 Mv>. Ferrand was greatly surprised by the 
 language and sentiments of Marianna, when 
 she considered that this girl had been brought 
 up in solitude, far from schools, from cities, 
 and from all refined and intelligent society. 
 
 ]>ut Marianna's ignorance was not so great 
 as to benumb the powers of a mind which 
 uas i-t once thoughtful and active. In the
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 209 
 
 first place, aunt Naomi had made her a con- 
 stant and zealous student of the Bible. She 
 had studied out the beauties of its inspired 
 poetry and its Divine philosophy, and there 
 was not a scene or a circumstance of her 
 daily life for which she could not find some 
 suitable text, expressive of a great and en- 
 nobling truth. 
 
 The only work in verse which Marianna 
 possessed, was aunt Naomi's hymn-book, and 
 she had learned by heart every stanza which 
 struck her as being either beautiful in lan- 
 guage or devotional in spirit. Those songs of 
 Zion which she warbled so untiringly, seemed 
 like companions to her as she went about her 
 household tasks, or mused in the orange-tree 
 bower, or took her lonely walks along the 
 shore. AVe have spoken of those works 
 of modern history which Marianna found 
 and read so eagerly.
 
 "21 n WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 Again and again she wept over the fate of 
 Lady Jane Grey, and admired the lofty 
 Christian firmness of Lady Russell. She 
 read of those Scottish martyrs, "of whom 
 the world was not worthy," and who, for the 
 Truth's sake," wandered in deserts, and in 
 mountains, and in dens and caves of the 
 earth. Opening the history of her own 
 country, she missed not a word which told 
 her how the Huguenot exiles of France, and 
 the Puritan pilgrims of England, crossed the 
 ocean to seek upon the shores of America 
 " Freedom to worship God." Then, Marian- 
 na made the acquaintance of all the nohle 
 men and women of our Revolutionary days, 
 and thought over their words of eloquencfe 
 and patriotism, and their heroic and self- 
 i :<!! -icing acts, until she was so rapt into the 
 spirit of them that it seemed as though she 
 herself, had striven, endured, and conquered,
 
 WRECKER'S GKAND-CHILD. 211 
 
 willi them. Marianna had found, in an old 
 desk of lier grandfather's, a blank book, in 
 which she frequently wrote down remarks 
 upon what she had read, or some of her re- 
 flections upon religious subjects, which had 
 proved so pleasant and cheering to her mind 
 that she did not wish to forget them again. 
 Her writing in this book had given Marian- 
 na the power of putting her thoughts into 
 words more easily than she could otherwise 
 have done, and words cannot express what a 
 great satisfaction it was to her to have some 
 one to whom she could talk freely and confi- 
 dentially, as she could to Mrs. Ferrand. 
 
 Every day, Blanche was enabled to gratify 
 Marianna' s thirst for knowledge by describ- 
 ing to her something of which she had 
 hitherto been ignorant. Xothing interested 
 the young listener more than did Mrs. Fcr- 
 rand's account of the public worship to which
 
 i?12 WRKCKKR'S o RAND-CHILD. 
 
 she liad been accustomed. for Marianna had 
 
 never, within her recollection, been in a 
 church, nor had she ever seen one. 
 
 On a certain afternoon, Blanche had l;ecn 
 telling her young friend about the different 
 kinds of schools which are provided for 
 children and youth, and which none of us 
 would need to have described for our infor- 
 mation. When Mrs. Ferrand paused, Ma- 
 rianna asked, " Are there no other kinds of 
 schools T 
 
 'I cannot think of any others, just now." 
 \vas the reply ," except the Sunday Schools." 
 
 What are the children taught there !" in- 
 quired Marianna. 
 
 "The object." replied Mrs. Ferrand, " is 
 to teach them to be Christians. Those who 
 are too young to understand sermons may 
 there learn to know their Saviour, and give
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 218 
 
 tlicir hearts to Him who gave his life for 
 them." 
 
 " What books do they use?" was the next 
 question. 
 
 " They study the Bible, and, if any other 
 books are used, they are intended only to 
 make the children understand that more 
 clearly." * 
 
 " And are the naughty children punished 
 there as in other schools that you have been 
 telling me of?" 
 
 " Oh, no ! There are no punishments 
 there. Love, and love only, is the ruling 
 power of such a school. The teachers get 
 no pay, except the satisfaction that loving 
 hearts feel in making those around them 
 happier and better ; and the scholars, even 
 before they learn to love their Saviour, are 
 led to come by a love for their teachers, or 
 their school. Think, Mariaiina, of hundreds
 
 214 
 
 of children meeting together t<> learn about 
 heavenly things, and all joining their voices 
 in the sweet Sabbath School hymns, making 
 music that the angels in Heaven might pause 
 in their songs to listen to !" 
 
 Marianna's eyes filled with tears of inex- 
 pressible delight, as she exclaimed, " Oh, 
 how happy those children must be ! How 
 glad they must fed when Sunday comes ! I 
 wonder if they know that the children here 
 have no Sabbath School ? I do wish that 
 the time might come when I could be a Sun- 
 day School teacher, among these poor child- 
 ren ! Yes, I wish that we could try it now ; 
 but I know that neither grandfather nor the 
 wreckers would listen to such a thing." 
 
 Here, the arrival of Lieutenant Ferrand 
 put a stop, for the present, to this conversa- 
 tion, but the subject of it was to dwell in
 
 WUKOKEKS GRAND-CHILD. ^15 
 
 Marianna's mind throughout the whole of 
 her succeeding life. 
 
 A few Aveeks after the arrival of Mrs. Fer- 
 rjind 111 Florida, little Bessie's birth-day oc- 
 curred, and it was celebrated by a small se- 
 lect party, consisting of Marianna, Bessie's 
 mother and father, and the little girl herself. 
 They sat down beneath the shade of orange 
 trees, and amidst blooming magnolias, to a 
 really delicious supper of fruit of various 
 kinds, home-made cake, honey in the comb, 
 and rich pure milk. Marianna crowned 
 Bessie with a wreath of white roses, but 
 could not help laughing with Lieutenant and 
 Mi's. Ferrand, to see the change which took 
 place in the little creature's air and demean- 
 or, under the consciousness of "looking pret- 
 ty." Bessie, however, though the laugh was 
 rgainst herself, joined in it with the most 
 over-flowing good humor, and by hugging
 
 21ti WRECKERS GKAM>-< IIII.D. 
 
 and kissing each of the other persons pre- 
 sent, proved that she was neither hurt nor 
 offended. 
 
 Already, Bessie could talk very distinctly, 
 and every new phrase which she picked up 
 was hailed, both by Marianna and Mrs. Ter- 
 mini, with as much delight as though the 
 little one had never said anything u cunning" 
 before. But we have not the time to linger 
 long upon these pleasant subjects, and, in 
 giving a true description of human life, we 
 c:i:i never proceed far without being obliged 
 to relate something that has upon it the shade 
 of sadness. 
 
 7'lrs. Ferrand was naturally of a delicate 
 constitution, and for the last two years, she- 
 had gradually been growing more and more 
 fragile. Lieutenant Ferrand expected that, 
 after recovering from that shock which she 
 had endured on the night of the wreck.
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 21 7 
 
 Blanche would conic back to the same degree 
 of strength and activity which she had, 
 when he last left her, to go upon his "West 
 Indian voyage. But, on the contrary, she 
 continually grew weaker and thinner, though 
 she never uttered any complaint, and always 
 returned soothing answers to his anxious 
 questionings as to how she felt. 
 
 For some time, Ferrand clung to the hope 
 that the mild and agreeable climate in which 
 she now was living would produce an im- 
 provement in Blanche's health, but, gradually 
 the cold chill of disappointment settled over 
 this expectation too. He told his wife that 
 he would go to the nearest city, and get some 
 reliable doctor to come and give an opinion 
 as to her case ; and Blanche calmly replied, 
 that if it was his wish to do so, she gave her 
 full consent. 
 
 Ferrand took the proposed journey, and 
 19
 
 218 WRF.C KKK'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 brought back \vitli him the best physician 
 whose services he could procure. After the 
 doctor had held a short conversation with 
 Mrs. Ferrand, the Lieutenant walked with 
 him down to the island shore, and they 
 talked together for some time. At length, 
 Ferrand returned to the apartment where 
 Blanche was sitting alone, while Marianna 
 and Bessie were chasing each other about the 
 garden. His face was pale as marble, and 
 the pupils of^liis eyes were dilated like those 
 of one who suffers intense pain, yet a cheer- 
 ful smile was upon his lips, and, in a steady 
 yet gentle tone, he remarked, " The Doctor 
 says you must be very careful of yourself, 
 Blanche." 
 
 AVhat a sweetness of expression, what ten- 
 derness and sympathy, were in Blanche's 
 looks ! 
 
 " Come and sit here, Frank,' 1 said she.
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 219 
 
 Ferrand took the chair to which she pointed. 
 " Now, dear," she continued, " why should 
 you put such a constraint upon yourself, and 
 force that smile, when the heart is so full ? 
 I cannot but expect that you should be sorry 
 to part with me, after we have been so happy 
 together !" 
 
 At these words, Ferrand's false strength 
 suddenly gave way. His head dropped for- 
 ward, his hands were pressed over his face, 
 and he wept as he had never done since, 
 when a boy, he stood beside his mother's cof- 
 fin. Those convulsive sobs, which shook his 
 whole frame, seemed like the throes of death, 
 and as they grew fewer and fainter, he uttered 
 words which touched 1 Blanche's heart more 
 deeply than did even his tears. 
 
 " I could have borne anything else," he 
 ejaculated. " I have borne humiliations and 
 losses that would have crushed other men ;
 
 JJiSU WEECKKK 8 (rKAND-CHILJi. 
 
 and I have not shed a tear, nor uttered a 
 complaint. But I am conquered* now; ! 
 fa n not endure this !" 
 
 "Yes, dear Frank, God will give YOU 
 strength to endure it. Oh, it is amazing 
 what we can bear, with His help! I have 
 often felt afraid that I could not be resigned 
 to leaving you and Bessie ; but, now that the 
 trial has come, I seem to be braced up by a 
 courage that is not my own, and my heart 
 feels wonderfully calm and cheerful. How 
 true are those two precious texts of Scripture, 
 "My grace is sufficient for thee,'' and As 
 thy day, so shall thy strength be!" Only 
 trust the Lord, dear, and you will find t1::it 
 He can support you in any trial." 
 
 Ferrand made no reply, but his heart was 
 not in a state either to receive comfort or t<> 
 feel resigned. lie saw, however, that his 
 grief had drawn from Blanche's eyes tears
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 221 
 
 which her own situation could not cause to 
 flow, and he resolved that she should not 
 again be thus troubled upon his account. 
 With a struggle, he mastered all outward 
 signs of emotion; and no mortal eye again 
 beheld him weep, no mortal ear heard his 
 heart's bitter complainings. 
 
 As a last resource, Ferrand now betook 
 himself to prayer, and, for months after this, 
 he prayed, not only every day, but every 
 hour of his waking existence. His prayer 
 was always the same, u Lord, spare her life ! 
 Restore her to health again !" 
 
 lie never asked for submission to the will 
 of God, whatever that will might be ; and 
 he did not ask for sustaining grace to sup- 
 port him, in case of Blanche's death. Though 
 he never put the thought into words, the 
 spirit of his prayer was this, u Give me 
 just what I ask for, or give me nothing!"
 
 222 WRECKER'S <TRAXI>-<'IIII.I>. 
 
 When Blanche informed M arianna that the 
 doctor had pronounced her to he in a rapid 
 consumption, the shock to Yon Fldon's 
 granddaughter was extremely great. At 
 first, in her despondency, she felt tempted to 
 believe, as Lieutenant Ferrand did himself. 
 that Providence had singled her out to he the 
 victim of special misfortunes. Tier mother 
 had early heen taken from her, then her 
 father, then aunt Naomi, and now, Mrs. 
 Ferrand was going ; and her grandfather was 
 so aged and infirm that his death could not, 
 certainly, be far distant. But unlike the Lieu- 
 tenant, Marianna steadily resisted, and soon 
 drove from her the thought that God's pur- 
 poses, however mysterious they might now 
 appear, could be any other than those of 
 love and mercy. Yet fain, indeed, would ]\Ia- 
 rianna keep with her that dear friend over 
 whom she had so lately rejoiced as over a new
 
 WBECKER 8 GKAXD-CIITLD. 2'2 
 
 found treasure, and wlio was tlio only 
 being upon earth into whose sympathizing 
 car she could ever pour the full confidence 
 of her heart. She, too, betook herself to 
 daily and hourly prayer for Blanc-he's re- 
 covery ; hut her petition breathed the sub- 
 missive spirit of the Saviour in Gethsem- 
 ane; " Father, if it be possible, let this 
 cup pass from mo ; nevertheless, not as I 
 will, but as thoti wilt !" 
 
 Tt was now the chief study, both of Ma- 
 rianna and Lieutenant Ferrand, to do every- 
 thing possible to render Blanche's life cheer- 
 ful and pleasant, while she yet remained 
 with them, and these loving attentions were 
 well appreciated by the invalid. As she 
 received the thousand little services of true 
 affection, a smile of tenderness and pleasure 
 would beam upon her faco, and, at all times 
 her niannor displayed a serene tranquility
 
 224 \VRKCXKlt" S GKANTVCHTLD. 
 
 which bespoke the soul cjuiet that reigned 
 within. Her favorite occupations were 
 reading her Bible, doing some useful piece 
 sf -:-\ving, or listening to Marianna singing 
 hymn?. This last was a source of great 
 pleasure to Bessie also, and tho little child 
 would often herself try to sing some of those 
 sweet words to which she listened so atten- 
 tively. 
 
 Grieved as she was at the prospect of losing 
 her friend, Marianna could sec that it was 
 not Blanche, but her husband, who was a fit 
 object for pity, and she hoped at first, that 
 Lieutenant Fcrrancl might find some conso- 
 lation in watching the blooming health, and 
 innocent playfulness of his little daughter. 
 But in this sho waj disappointed, for Fer- 
 rand was so much absorbed in anxiety i'jr his 
 wifo that ho now scarcely took any notice of 
 his child. Indeed, it was painful to him {:)
 
 'S GRAND-CHILD. 225 
 
 see her thoughtlessly laughing and playing 
 besi-le her sick mother. 
 
 A - Blanche's strength began to fail rapidly, 
 the ido-i struck Marianna, that it might l>o 
 well to endeavor to prepare Bessie some what 
 for an approaching separation from that 
 mother to whoso constant presence she had 
 hitherto been accustomed. One day she 
 tried to introduce the subject in talking to 
 that happy and unsuspecting little one, but 
 Mnri:-uma's heart failed her, and she burst 
 into tears. At this moment, Mrs. Ferrand, 
 assisted by her husband, came and took her 
 seat beside an open window of her room, 
 which looked into the garden, where the two 
 girls then were. Bessie, with an expression 
 half indignant and half distressed, pointed 
 to tlrj weeping Marianna, and exclaimed, 
 "Look, Mamma, naughty Minna crying for 
 nothing!"
 
 226 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 Blanche, though now unahl'j to loave her 
 room, was not confined to her bed, but spent 
 most of the day in a large cushioned easy 
 chair. Three months had now elapsed .since 
 her first coming to Florida, when, one morn- 
 ing, Mrs. Ferrand found herself so we:.k 
 that, after taking a slight breakfast, she was 
 obliged to lie down again upon her bed. 
 Mr.-. Giles had, of late, been in the habit of 
 frequently coming over to the island, to As- 
 sist in attending upon I.lanche, and on this 
 occasion the remained with her all day. 
 Lieutenant Ferrand, also, spent the entire 
 day upon the island, and passed the night on 
 a lounge in Von. Ulden's sitting-room. The 
 next morning, as her husband was sitting be- 
 side her, Blanche drew from beneath her 
 pillow a pocket ]>iblc, bound in faded red 
 and gold, ;;nd baid, k ' Frank, I have been 
 wishing to give yon home keepsake, and I
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 227 
 
 hive chosen this, because it is the most pre- 
 cious thing that I possess. I know that you 
 will love it because it has been so dear to me. 
 When you Were away from home, and all our 
 prospects looked dark and clouded, this was 
 my comforter ; and, on that night of the 
 wreck, when I was swept along by the waves, 
 with Bessie in my arms, this book was placed 
 safely next to my heart/' 
 
 "And, while I live, it shall be kept next 
 to mine," answered Ferrand, with deep emo- 
 tion, as he received the book, kissed it, and 
 placed it in his bosom. 
 
 " I believe it, dear ;" said Blanche, " and I 
 hope that you will sometimes read those 
 pages that I have read so often. Oh, Frank, 
 if, in the darkest hour of your life, you search 
 that book, you will find there tho light that 
 you want ! If you -do not find it at first, 
 look again, and again, for " there is balm in.
 
 2'2 S WRECKERS GKAXD-CIIILD. 
 
 (,-iilead, and tlicrc id a Physician there." I 
 know that you will yet come to love the 
 Bible and the Saviour ; I have prayed for 
 it so often !" 
 
 u You have been my guardian angel, e\vr 
 since we first met," replied her husband, fer- 
 vently. " But don't try to talk any more 
 just now, dear Blanche. You are weak, and 
 so much speaking exhausts yon." 
 
 " Yes, I do feel tired," answered Blanche. 
 " I will sleep a little now, and, while I iiin 
 sleeping, I would like you, Frank, to take a 
 short walk. You did not stir out of the 
 house all day yesterday, and you are not 
 to such close confinement. Marianna 
 will sit by me," she added, as Yon Ulden's 
 granddaughter entered the room, with 
 Bessie. 
 
 Lieutenant Ferrand accordingly, bale his 
 wife an affectionate good-bye, took his hat,
 
 WRECKER'S o HAND-CHILD. 229 
 
 and went out for a little Avalk, about the 
 island. Bessie now demanded to get up on 
 her mamma's bed, and at Mrs. Ferrand's re- 
 quest, Marianna placed the child beside her 
 mother. Mrs. Ferrand put her arms around 
 her little girl, and in a few minutes, the rosy 
 dimpled child, and the pale, fragile mother, 
 lay sleeping with equal tranquillity. Marian- 
 na sat by the bed-side, engaged with some 
 needlework, frequently glancing at the slum- 
 bering invalid. Presently Mrs. Ferrand 
 opened her eyes, and fixing them earnestly 
 upon Marianna, said, " That was not a 
 dream !" 
 
 "What was it like?" asked Marianna, 
 rising and leaning over the bed. 
 
 " Oh, I cannot describe it ; such a beauti- 
 ful scene, and such brightness ! I know that 
 it was real, for Jesus has said, " I go to pre-
 
 230 CHECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 pare a place for you ;" uud now I have seen 
 that place ! M 
 
 Her voice sank into a whisper, and she 
 closed her eyes again. Mariaima bent over 
 her more closely, gazed at her intently, and 
 then called, " Mrs. Ferrand I" at first quite 
 softly, and then in a louder, yet more tremu- 
 lous tone. Finding that she could get no 
 response, Marianna ran to where Mrs. Giles 
 was sitting, in conversation with the hired 
 woman, and begged her to come to Mrs. 
 Ferrand's room. Both of the women came 
 immediately, and after looking closely at 
 Blanche, exclaimed, " Ah, it is all over ! 
 She is gone !" 
 
 Mrs. Giles gently lifted the sleeping child 
 iVum the arms of its lifeless mother, and laid 
 it upon a bed in the other room. 
 
 Mariaima went into the sitting room, and, 
 throwing herself into a chair, wept like a lit-
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 231 
 
 tie cliild. Mrs. Giles followed her, and with 
 well meaning, yet mistaken solicitude, repre- 
 sented to her that " fretting could not do any 
 good," and that she would only make herself 
 sick. 
 
 In a few minutes, Lieutenant Ferrand's 
 step was heard in the hall, and Mrs. GiK-s 
 went to meet him, with a look full of sad 
 significance. 
 
 " DoiTt go up stairs, Lieutenant,'' said she 
 in a subdued voice, " come in here." 
 
 Ferrand followed her into the sitting-room, 
 looked at the weeping Marianna, and sat 
 down in silence. 
 
 "I have been telling Miss Marianna," ob- 
 served Mrs. Giles, " that grieving is all of no 
 use ; and we all have got to go, sooner or 
 later. I'm sure, them that are gone are bet- 
 ter off, for there's nothing but trouble in this 
 world."
 
 232 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 After uttering a few more eentences oi 
 common place consolation, Mrs. Giles grew 
 silent, for she was getting uneasy and discon- 
 certed under the strangely steady gaze 
 which, all the while, Ferrand kept tixed up- 
 on her. It did not seem that he moved an 
 eye-lash, and he appeared to listen to Mrs. 
 Gih.-.s as though upon every word she uttered 
 hung an issue more tremendous than that of 
 life or death, yet, in fict, ho did not know 
 what she was saying. Mrs. Giles herself he- 
 gan to suspect this, and after a pause, she 
 asked, " Lieutenant, wouldn't you like to 
 see little Bessie ?" 
 
 There was no answer, and no change of ex- 
 presMon in his countenance. Mrs. Giles 
 came nearer to him and repeated her ques- 
 tion. Without a word, Ferrand arose, 
 walked out of the room and immediately 
 left the house.
 
 WBECKEB'S GRAND-CHILD. 233 
 
 " Why," said Mrs. Giles, " how strange 
 that man acts !" 
 
 She went to the house door, and looked 
 after the Lieutenant until she had seen him. 
 go down to the shore, get into a little boat, 
 and row himself across to the mainland. 
 When she returned home, that evening, she 
 was told 1) v her husband that Lieutenant Fer- 
 rand had remained locked up in his own room, 
 in their cottage, ever since .he returned from 
 the island. 
 
 Yon Ulden's behaviour, upon the occasion 
 of Mrs. Ferrand's death, was not exactly 
 that which his granddaughter had prepared 
 herself to expect. Though very few words 
 had ever been exchanged between them, 
 the old man had regarded Blanche's pres- 
 ence on the island as a pleasant circumstance ; 
 and, on account of her resemblance to l[a- 
 riarma's mother, he would often gaze at her 
 20*
 
 lj;i4 WRECKER S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 for a long time, with interest, if lie could do 
 so unobserved. In his mildest tone, he now 
 remarked to Marianna, " Well, I am sorry 
 for this. I was in hopes that Mrs. Ferrand 
 would be like a mother, and a sister, too, to 
 you, Marianna, but I see that you're fated 
 not to have any suitable friend or compan- 
 ion. You come of an unlucky stock ; 
 that's certain. She was too good to be the 
 wife of such a puppy as Ferrand, and if it 
 had only been him that died, instead of her, 
 it would have been a great deal more satis- 
 factory." 
 
 After a moment's reflection, Marianna an- 
 swered, "Oh no, grandfather, for we are 
 sure that she has gone to Heaven." 
 
 " And Ferrand himself," said Yon Ulden, 
 " is bound to go." AYith one gesture of dis- 
 tressed entreaty Marianna sprang up and 
 left the room. It wa& too shocking and pain-
 
 WRECKERS GRAND-CHILD. 2<5i> 
 
 ful to hear such a judgment pronounced up- 
 on another by that hardened and godless 
 old man, who was himself, every hour, tremb- 
 ling upon the brink of everlasting misery 1
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE EFFECTS OF HIS LOSS UPOX LIEUTENANT 
 
 FERRAXD. - MARTAXXA AXD BESSIE AS 
 
 COMP.YN70XS. - BESSIE IS DEPRIVED OF 
 
 HER OT1IKR PARENT. 
 
 ^ ie mornm g f the next day after 
 Blanche's departure, Lieutenant Fer- 
 rand requested Giles to proceed to 
 the nearest town, and send a telegraphic des- 
 patch to Mrs. Ferrand's relatives, so that an y 
 of them who desired to do so might he pres- 
 ent at her funeral. At the same time, (ii!rs 
 was directed to make arrangements for the 
 burial, which was to take place at a cemetery 
 near the town just mentioned. In order to 
 meet expenses, Lieutenaiit Ferrand placed 
 in Giles's hands all the money which he 
 then had, and which consisted of his share 
 
 (23T)
 
 2'">S WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 of tlie profits from two or three wrecks that 
 had recently taken place. 
 
 The next day Ferrand walked out, and di- 
 rected his steps to the most lonely and se- 
 cluded spot that he could find. It was about 
 a mile from the wreckers' settlement, and 
 was frequented just enough to keep a narrow 
 path worn through the tall thick grass, and 
 amidst trees and bushes growing in wild 
 luxuriance. Xo sound was now heard there 
 but the chirping of insects, and the occaMn- 
 al twitter of a bird, as it flew to or from its 
 nest. 
 
 " Only a few months ago," thought Fer- 
 rand, "how I could have enjoyed such a 
 walk as this ! It never required a great deal 
 to make me happy; and, if Fate had only 
 Fpared her," he struck his hand against his 
 breast, and, in doing so, felt the little Bible 
 that Blanche had given him.
 
 WBECKEB'S (rUA\i)-< HILD. 239 
 
 " Ah, she said, tliat in that book there 
 was comfort for the darkest hour," murmured 
 lie. " Surely, my life cannot have a darker 
 hour than this !" 
 
 He sat down upon a fallen tree, drew forth 
 the Bible, and opened it, but without any 
 definite object except that of honoring 
 Blanche's last advice. Even from this object 
 his attention was immediately drawn off, by 
 seeing a folded letter placed between the 
 back and blank leaves of the book. It had 
 been written by Blanche in her last illness, 
 and was addressed to himself. She alluded 
 to her approaching departure with tranquil- 
 lity, and even with cheerfulness, and said 
 everything that piety and love could suggest 
 to render the parting less painful to her hus- 
 band. She conjured him not to remain 
 among the wreckers longer than the one 
 year for which he was bound by his promise,
 
 240 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 and begged that, while he was among them, 
 lie would exert all the strength of his soul to 
 resist the temptations of such a trying and 
 dangerous position. Indeed, she expressed 
 her opinion, if he found that his present 
 position obliged him to join in, or connive at, 
 what was wrong, he ought to leave the wreck- 
 ers at once, since to keep his promise would 
 dishonor him in the sight of God, while to 
 break it, would dishonor him only in the 
 eyes of wicked and lawless men. Finally, 
 Blanche desired that Bessie should remain 
 in Florida as long as hor father did, and that, 
 during that time, she should share the home, 
 and be under the care of that dear Christian 
 girl, Mariaima Yon Ulden. 
 
 Ferrand read this letter with all the awe 
 and reverence, the tenderness and emotion, 
 of a person listening to a voice from the be- 
 loved dead, a message from one of thegiori-
 
 WRECKERS GKAND-CHILD. "241 
 
 fied inhabitants of Heaven. About an hour 
 afterwards, he went to the island, and com- 
 municated to Marianna Mrs. Ferrand's wish 
 concerning Bessie. Marianna had feared 
 that Bessie would speedily be removed from 
 Florida, and sent to live with some relative 
 in a distant state, but now, clasping the little- 
 treasure in her arms, she fervently vowed 
 that, while they remained together, this 
 child should be the object of her dearest care. 
 When Mrs. Ferrand's two elder sisters, 
 with their husbands, came to attend her fun- 
 eral, they seemed disposed, at first, to insist 
 upon taking Bessie away, to live with one of 
 them ; but the Lieutenant's dejection gave 
 place, for a few moments, to indignation, as 
 he sternly assured them that no one should 
 remove the child from the care of that per- 
 son to whom she had been consigned by a
 
 "21*2 WRECKER'S <;KAXT>-CIIILI>. 
 
 dvinir mother's wish, and ;i living father's 
 authority. 
 
 And now Blanche Ferrand is removed 
 from liuinan sight, never more to he seen as 
 a weak, suffering, mortal being. Those of 
 her earthly friends who are privileged to see' 
 her again will see her in the resurrection body, 
 blooming and radiant with immortality. 
 
 Xone of the wreckers perceived anything 
 extraordinary in the demeanor of Lieutenant 
 Ferrand after his wife's death. lie was se- 
 rious, thoughtful, and silent. hut this much 
 they had expected. Among all who sur- 
 rounded him, only the intelligent and sympa- 
 thizing eye of Marianna co'.ild road anything 
 of what was passing in hisheart. His calm- 
 ness was that of a man who has L>st every- 
 thing, and endured the last and worst stroke 
 of misfortune, and who, therefore, has noth- 
 ing more either to hope or to fear. As for
 
 WRKCKEB'8 GRAND-CHILD. U-io 
 
 the kindness of God's purposes, he could no 
 more realize it, than a Protestant martyr up- 
 on the rack could realize the goodness of 
 the Popish Inquisition. iS r o ; he had merely 
 set himself down to bear with patience and 
 dignity the injuries, (for, strangely as it 
 sounds, this is the feeling of many people in 
 similar circumstanced,) the injuries which 
 Providence chose to inflict upon him. 
 
 Marianna, trusting in God, did not find 
 herself left to loneliness and sorrow, for the 
 care of Bessie occupied her mind, while the 
 child's company cheered her spirits. She 
 provided Bessie with the same kind of tovs 
 which had amused her own early childhood, 
 shells from the sea-beach and acorns from 
 the grove. Among the wrecks upon that 
 coast was a little trading vessel called u The 
 Cherub," which had for its figure-head a 
 carved wooden representation of the head of
 
 244 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 a child, about the size of that of an infant a 
 year old; and this head Lieutenant Ferrand 
 brought with him one day, when he came to 
 the island to visit his little girl. The wooden 
 elngy had very blue eyes, very red cheeks, 
 and a carved imitation of bright yellow hair, 
 arranged in curls ; and Bessie's fancy was 
 taken with it immediately. Marianna 1'xed 
 to it a small body, made of muslin stuffed 
 with dried grass, and then dressed it up in 
 the oldest of Bessie's clothes, when the little 
 girl joyfully received it in her arms, and 
 owned it as " her baby." 
 
 P>eie, likewise, enjoyed with Marianna 
 the pleasant company of pretty, harmless, 
 living things, that willingly bestowed their 
 society upon those sweet children, whom 
 they found to be as harmless as themselves. 
 .Jirds of song would perch upon the sills of
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 245 
 
 the open windows near which they sat, and 
 there warble as freely as in the grove. 
 
 There was a family of beautiful doves, 
 of a species peculiar to Florida, which were 
 so tame that they not only flew around the 
 two girls, when they walked out, but often, 
 at meal times, came in and alighted upon the 
 edge of the table, to pick up crumbs, and re- 
 ceive other food from the hands of Marian- 
 na and Bessie. There were a couple of 
 squirrels, too, that frequently came in at the 
 windows, played around the sitting-room, al- 
 lowed themselves to be fed by the two girls, 
 and then bounded off to their wild homes 
 again, soon to return for another visit. 
 
 But the most interesting hours of Marian- 
 na and Bessie were when, early in the morn- 
 ing or late in the afternoon, they walked out 
 together, hand in hand, generally directing 
 21*
 
 -24t) WRECKERS GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 their steps towards the island shore. Then, 
 while every object around, from the majes- 
 tic ocean to the smallest flower-bud, fur- 
 nishul her with an illustration, Marianna 
 would talk to her little charge of the power 
 and goodness of the great Creator, until by 
 the simple faith of the astonished and admir- 
 ing child, God's presence was felt pervading 
 every spot of the surrounding sea, earth, and 
 skv. Bessie loved much to hear Marianna 
 tell about the beautiful home to which her 
 mother had gone, and where, some day, they 
 weiv going, too. In that home, Marianna 
 pictured everything that is most- delightful 
 and attractive, perpetual sunshine, never 
 fading flowers of magnificent beauty, glori- 
 ous mansions, hosts of happy souls in robes 
 of glittering white, countless throngs of 
 little children, sporting in continued joy, 
 the melody of sweet angelic voices, singing
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 247 
 
 their wondrous hymns, and to complete the 
 whole, the presence of Jesus smiling ten- 
 derly on those He loves so well. 
 
 Sometimes Lieutenant Ferrand would ac- 
 company Marianna and Bessie in their 
 walks, for theirs was now the only society, 
 within his reach, that he could well endure. 
 Unlike Yon Ulden, he had not become so 
 harsh and peevish by his misfortunes as to 
 make all around him unhappy, and the in- 
 nocent cheerfulness of Marianna and Bessie 
 did not grate upon his feelings as did the rude 
 and depraved mirth of the wreckers. 
 
 He assisted his little girl ingathering shells 
 and flowers, and the amiable simplicity of 
 his character increased Marianna's pity for 
 that silent heart-ache which she knew that 
 he endured. lie soon began to seek relief 
 from the burden of melancholy thoughts in 
 talking to Mariaima of his departed wilt*,
 
 *>48 WBECKEB'S GRAND-CHILI*. 
 
 in telling how. as a id: 1 !. >hehad walked, with 
 the serene and lofty indifference of a great 
 soul, through the " Vanity Fair" of fashion- 
 able society, and how, as a wife, her un- 
 selfish devotion had been as a star that shone 
 forth the more brightly when the clouds of 
 adversity gathered around her husband and 
 her home. 
 
 Marianna, as she listened, shed tears of 
 admiring sympathy, and often expressed the 
 hope that, in all respects, Bessie might prove 
 just such a woman as her mother. 
 
 One day, as Lieutenant Ferrand, ^Uari.ni- 
 na, and Bessie, sat by the sea-shore, jind 
 watched the waves rolling up on the sand, and 
 then receding, Ferrand remarked thought- 
 fully, "This scene, and my own lonely situa- 
 tion, remind me of some lines that were 
 written by a man who lived somewhere in 
 Florida ;
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 249 
 
 " My life is like the print of feet 
 Left upon Tampa's desert sand ; 
 Soon as the rising tide shall beat, 
 Those tracks shall vanish from the land. 
 Yet, as if grieving to efi'ace 
 All vestige of the human race, 
 On that lone shore loud moans the sea, 
 But none shall e'er lament for me ! 
 
 My life is like the Autumn leaf 
 That flutters in the moon's pale ray ; 
 Its hold is frail, its state is brief, 
 Eestless, and soon to pass away. 
 Yefc, ere that leaf shall fall and fads, 
 Tho parent tree shall mourn its shade ; 
 The winds bowail the leafless tree, 
 But none shall breathe a sigh for mo I" 
 
 There was silence for a few moments, and 
 then Bessie spoke up, "Papa, that's pretty 
 talk ; but don't say it any more. It makes 
 Minna's eyes so weak !" 
 
 Marianna now began to speak of her own 
 peculiar heart-trials, beginning with the curly
 
 *2."i'i WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 loss of her mother, of whom her faint, yet 
 almost adoring remembrance, was, as she 
 herself said, " Like a dream of an angel !" 
 
 Tli is led Lieutenant Ferrand to talking of 
 his mother, who, like Marianna's and Bessie's, 
 had died a holy and a happy death, so that, 
 in the minds of all those three, the Xaval 
 officer, the young girl, and the little child, 
 the names of " mother" and " Heaven" were 
 inseparably connected. In such a conversa- 
 tion it was very easy for Marianna to intro- 
 duce the subject of a future life. She said 
 that she had always felt the truth of what 
 aunt Naomi had told her, that, in Heaven 
 we- shall meet and know again the blessed 
 ones who have been dear to us upon earth, 
 and who shall then receive us with a love and 
 joy unspeakable. 
 
 " Don't you think so, Lieutenant ?" added 
 Muriaima.
 
 ,n. 251 
 
 "Yes; Oh, yes !" lie answered, with an 
 earnest sincerity that could not be mistaken ; 
 iind lie fixed liis eyes upon the clear blue 
 heavens, as if half expecting to see his mother 
 and Blanche looking down upon and watch- 
 ing him with a deathless affection. 
 
 " But it is strange," continued Marianna, 
 " that we can believe so much more easily in 
 the love of our- human friends than in the 
 love of God, who gave those friends to ns at 
 first, and who will give them back tons, if we 
 will only accept of the Heaven that lie offers 
 us !" 
 
 " It is very easy, Marianna, for such a one 
 iis you to be a Christian," said Lieutenant 
 Ferrand. 
 
 u ()h no;" replied Marianna, " and what 
 faith I have has been given to me in answer 
 to many, many prayers." 
 
 "Yes, I suppose your prayer^ may be
 
 L.V2 \V KECK Kit's 
 
 heard, but mine have not seemed to he," re- 
 turned Ferrand. 
 
 " Aunt Xaonri used to say that we never 
 can tell whether we have faith or not until 
 God declines to grant us something that we 
 particularly want," was Marianna's answer. 
 
 " If we can trust him then, it is the kind 
 of trust he requires. If our faith is not 
 strong enough for that, how can we ever ex- 
 pect it to be followed by everlasting happi- 
 ness in Heaven, by sharing in the glory of 
 Jesus, and by enjoying again the company of 
 such dear friends as your mother, and Bessie's 
 and mine ? They, when they were in this 
 world, bore every trial so sweetly and meek- 
 ly ; and what right would we have to share 
 their 1)1 is -, unless we can prove our faith as 
 iliey did theirs f 
 
 Ferrand was silent, but every expression 
 in his speaking eyes and sensitive mouth
 
 LIEUTENANT FERRAND'S I?ETFRN.-Pare252
 
 253 
 
 showed that his feelings were both touched 
 and soothed by dwelling upon the thoughts 
 that Marianna had suggested. Yet when, in 
 the course of their next conversation, she 
 proceeded with all possible tact and delicacy, 
 to speak of the importance of immediately 
 securing our salvation, by coming out upon 
 Christ's side, Ferrand made no reply, but 
 hastily rose and began to walk about, as if 
 for exercise and recreation, but with unmis- 
 takable disturbance of mind. Of late, he 
 had kept nothing of his share of the wreck- 
 er's spoil, except what sufficed to pay his 
 board, but he knew that both he and his 
 child owed their support to those who were 
 often guilty of acts of dishonesty and cruel 
 wrong. Having met with nothing but fail- 
 ure in his attempt to reform the wreckers, 
 Lieutenant Ferrand had given up the idea, in 
 despair, and thus lie seemed to sanction, or 
 22
 
 254 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 connive at conduct which lie detested in his 
 soul. The hallowed teachings of a Christian 
 mother had implanted in his heart enough of 
 religious sensibility to make him feel that he 
 was living contrary to conscience, and that, 
 while he thus lived, it was impossible to make 
 any sincere profession of religion. Why, 
 then, did he not, as Blanche had recom- 
 mended, leave the wreckers at once ? Be- 
 cause he had not the moral courage to break 
 a promise which lie now saw it was wrong 
 for him ever to have given. 
 
 Four months had now elapsed since Mrs. 
 Ferrand's death, and the Lieutenant said to 
 himself, " In three months more, the year 
 will be up, and then I shall beout of this 
 snare. Then, I will have a chance to become 
 as good as any one !" 
 
 But Ferrand's case was to aiford a sad 
 warning against too great, though very com-
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 255 
 
 mon dangers. The first of these consists in 
 putting off the performance of good reso- 
 lutions, and the second in being found in had 
 company. On a certain occasion, Giles and 
 several others of the wreckers, had taken a 
 voyage, in Lieutenant Ferrand's yacht, to the 
 nearest South American port, in order to dis- 
 pose of some articles which they knew would 
 there find a ready sale. As they returned, 
 they saw a vessel in distress, and about sink- 
 ing. She proved to be from Brazil, and had 
 on board quite a large sum of money belong- 
 ing to the Brazilian government. Though 
 they saved the lives of the men on board, by 
 receiving them into the yacht, the wreckers 
 laid their hands upon the treasure, and, with 
 much exultation, stowed it away for their own 
 use. The officer of the Brazilian govern- 
 ment, in whose charge the money was, loudly 
 demanded its return, and Giles strongly ad-
 
 5<> WKKOKKRS GRAN:>-C:I!LI>. 
 
 vised the wreckers not t(>keepit, but neither 
 threats nor persuasions could induce them 
 to give up their booty. On this affair bein^- 
 reported to the Brazilian government, it was 
 decided that the crew of the yacht were 
 pirates, and orders were given to seize them 
 at the first opportunity. A few weeks after- 
 wards, the commander of the sunken Brazilian 
 vessel was cruising about in another ship, 
 when he again encountered the wrecker's 
 yacht. This time, Lieutenant Ferrand was 
 on board, and in command. lie knew noth- 
 ing of the heavy robbery which his crew had 
 committed, as they had purposely kept the 
 affair a secret from him ; and therefore, he 
 was quite indignant when the Brazilians 
 boarded his yacht, and ordered himself and 
 crew to surrender, as pirates. The wreckers 
 made a stout resistance, but the other party 
 bad too great an advantage in numbers. Fer-
 
 WRECKER 8 GRAND-CHILI). 257 
 
 rand beheld his crew falling around him, either 
 dead or severely wounded, with the ex- 
 ception of two half grown boys, who jumped 
 overboard and swam to a neighboring point 
 of land. The Lieutenant himself was over- 
 powered, dragged on board the Brazilian 
 vessel, and thrown upon the deck so roughly 
 as to stun him for a few moments. He was 
 then subjected to the painful and mortifying 
 process of having his hands and feet tightly 
 tied together with coarse ropes, and was put 
 into the vessel's hold, where, thus cruelly 
 tied, he remained all night, and until a late 
 hour the next morning. So unexpected was 
 this misfortune, that Ferrand was completely 
 astonished and bewildered by it, and his only 
 distinct sensations were those of bodily pain 
 and indignation at the manner in which he 
 was treated. The next morning, they reached 
 Rio Janeiro, and Lieutenant Ferrand was 
 22*
 
 258 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 put upon trial, as a pirate. This charge of 
 course, he denied, but acknowledged that he 
 was the commander of the wrecker's yacht 
 and the leader of its crew. One thing alone 
 saved him from a speedy and ignominious 
 death, and that was the fact that no one could 
 testify to having seen him on board of the 
 yacht on the occasion when the Brazilian 
 government's money was taken. It was 
 rather a perplexing case, but the authorities 
 before whom he was tried had no doubt of 
 Ferrand's being a pirate, and he was >eiit to 
 prison to await a second trial. 
 
 And now, Lieutenant Ferrand found him- 
 self a solitary prisoner, in a gloomy chamber, 
 with walls and floor of stone, in one of the 
 highest stories of a grim old castellated for- 
 tress. In a few days, hi> desire for freedom 
 became almost maddening and he longed for 
 his second trial, whateve. its result might be.
 
 WBBCREB'S GRAND-CHILD. 251) 
 
 But, in answer to his repeated questionings, 
 the jailor at Wgth told him that he would, 
 most probably, never be tried again, but 
 would be kept imprisoned for the rest of his 
 life, as a dangerous person, wb.o was unfit to 
 be at liberty.
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 A TIME OF MOURNIXG L\ THE WRECKER^S SETTLK- 
 
 MKNT. NEW IDE/YS ARE INTRODUCED 
 
 AMONG THE WOMEN. MARIANNA BE- 
 GINS THE GREAT WORK OF HER LIFE. 
 
 E two lads who, as we have men- 
 tioned, contrived to escape from the 
 captured yacht, made their way back 
 to Florida, with the sad and tragic story 
 which they had to relate. There was seen, 
 among the wives and families of the slain 
 wreckers, every form of wild and boisterous 
 grief, often verging upon frenzy, in its utter 
 hopelessness and lack of any heavenly con- 
 solation. Marianna now bitterly reproached 
 herself with not having had the courage 
 plainly and directly to urge Lieutenant Fer- 
 rand to seek his soul's salvation, while she 
 
 (2G1)
 
 262 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 had an opportunity to do so, an opportunity 
 that now, in all probability was gone forever. 
 For a while, she tried to comfort herself with 
 tlio idea with which she often soothed Bessie, 
 saying that she " hoped Papa would soon come 
 back again ;" but, as time passed on, she be- 
 came convinced that Lieutenant Ferrand was 
 either dead or doomed to a long imprison- 
 ment. Yet, few indeed are those situations 
 in life in which we have not the resource of 
 prayer, and Marianna wrestled in an agony 
 of supplication, for the unhappy, erring, 
 absent one. 
 
 " Lord of Mercy," she would ejaculate, " if 
 he still lives on earth, let him not die with- 
 out tasting Thy salvation ! Whatever fate 
 awaits his mortal body, give eternal life unto 
 his soul ; and Oh, let not the prayers of his 
 sainted mother and wife, or even these weak,
 
 WRECKER'S GKAND-CHILD. 263 
 
 unworthy petitions of mine, be poured out 
 to Thee in vain I" 
 
 But, keen and torturing indeed was the 
 remorse that now seized upon Giles. He 
 did not forget, he could not forget, until 
 the latest moment of his life, that his per- 
 suasions and representations had induced 
 Lieutenant Ferrfmd to take the leadership of 
 the wreckers, and thus had drawn upon him 
 his present misfortune, ending, perhaps, in 
 an untimely death. 
 
 As might have been expected, Giles had 
 not found his own conscience relieved by in- 
 ducing another person to take the outward 
 responsibility of commanding the wreckers, 
 and now, all the accumulated transgressions 
 of years seemed at once to press upon him, 
 with a crushing weight. 
 
 One morning, when Marianna entered 
 Giles's cottage, she found the old sailor sit-
 
 U<;4 WRECKERS GKAND-cnri.i . 
 
 ting with his elbows supported upon his 
 knees, his head upon his hands, and weeping 
 like a child. 
 
 Mrs. Giles was much affected by such an 
 outbreak of emotion as she had never known 
 her husband to give way to before, and 
 she sat near him, endeavoring to dry with 
 her check apron the drops of sympathy 
 which flowed from her own eyes. Marianna 
 dreaded that she "was t be told some sad 
 news, and tremblingly inquired, u Have you 
 heard anything of the Lieutenant ?" 
 
 " Xo,'' groaned Giles, " but I expect that 
 lie's dead, and I wish I was too; though 
 7'ui a fool to wish that, for, if I was to die, 
 I know that I'd go straight down to ever- 
 last ing torment !" 
 
 Marianna could only answer such words 
 as these by telling him .!' a Saviour'.- }< \ e 
 and mercy, and urging him to pray that his
 
 WRECKERS GRAND-CHILD. zO.> 
 
 sins might be washed away by the blood shed 
 on Calvary. 
 
 " Ah, I wouldn't know how to go about 
 praying," answered Giles, "but, if I could 
 hear you pray for me, then I might try." 
 
 Marianna had never prayed aloud in the 
 hearing of any person but little Bessie, and 
 she felt a natural shrinking from the idea of 
 attempting it in the presence of Giles and his 
 wife ; but then she thought, " It was this 
 cowardice that kept me from talking to Lieu- 
 tenant Ferrand as I should have done, and I 
 ought to take warning, now, against commit- 
 ting the same mistake another time." 
 
 Accordingly, asking God to give her 
 strength, she knelt down, and prayed that 
 this repentant man, and his wife also, might 
 be enabled to avail themselves of that remedy 
 for sin which Jesus has provided. M;-;! ;i- 
 na's prayer was short, but very much t< the 
 23
 
 266 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 point, and such was its effect upon Giles, that 
 as soon as she concluded, he fell upon his 
 knees, bowed his head, and clasping his hands 
 together, exclaimed, " Yes, good Lord, for- 
 give my sins, and help me, after this, to live 
 in such a way as to show that I'm really sor- 
 ry for them ! I don't dare to ask it except 
 for Christ's sake. Amen." 
 
 Completely overcome by hearing such 
 words proceed from her husband's lips, Mrs. 
 Giles cried out, " Oh, pray for me too !"- 
 Marianna, rejoiced and encouraged by Giles's 
 prayer, immediately complied with tho re- 
 quest. 
 
 An old Bible, which had long been hidden 
 away in dust and neglect, was now hunted 
 up, and, assisting them to find some chapters 
 which seemed especially suited to the.r ease, 
 Marianna left Giles and his wife to draw 
 strength and comfort from its pages. TI:3
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 26T 
 
 next day she again went to the old sailor' & 
 cottage, but found only Mrs. Giles at home. 
 She stated that her husband had gone to see 
 another wrecker, whose eldest son had been 
 killed at the time of Lieutenant Ferrand'* 
 capture ; and Giles washed to pour into the 
 afflicted father's heart that balm of Divine 
 love and mercy whose healing power he him- 
 self had just discovered. Marianna found 
 Mrs. Giles herself filled with the trembling* 
 joy of one who, in olden days, touched the 
 hem of the Saviour's garment, and found her 
 malady healed at once, yet scarcely dared to 
 believe that the Lord would look on her with 
 favor. 
 
 "This is a solemn time among our people," 
 she remarked, " but, if there was only any 
 sorrow for sin mixed with it, the mourning 
 of many a one would soon be turned into 
 gladness !"
 
 268 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 c; As I lay awake last night," said Marian- 
 na, " I kept thinking that this would be the 
 very time to start a Sunday-school here." 
 
 It had been so many years since 'Mrs Giles 
 had even heard the name of a Sunday-school, 
 that scarcely anything could have sounded 
 more novel and startling to her than did this 
 suggestion of Marianna. She owned that 
 " Such a thing would be very nice indeed, if 
 it could be done," but it was evident that 
 -she thought the scheme rather wild and vi>- 
 ionary. Marianna replied that she considered 
 .such an object worth trying for, at any rate, 
 .and she was willing to take the burden of 
 the first trial upon herself, if Mrs. Giles 
 would only second her efforts. The promise 
 to do this was honestly, yet timidly given, 
 and, as soon as Marianna left the cottage, she 
 commenced a round of visits to the women of 
 the wrecker families,.
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 269 
 
 The first upon whom she called was Mrs. 
 Clarke, the young woman who, when she 
 brought some fish to the island, had conveyed 
 to Marianna the news of the wreck of Lieu- 
 tenant Ferrand's yacht, and the death of 
 John Ross. By the recent calamity on board 
 that same vessel, Mrs. Clarke had now lost 
 her husband. Marianna found her sitting 
 with her infant child upon her lap, and 
 another little boy, a few years older, playing 
 about the room. A moody dejection appeared 
 in the widow's looks and attitude, and, im- 
 mediately after inviting Marianna to take a 
 seat, she began to talk of her recent loss. 
 
 " All that I can think of," she exclaimed 
 with dry and burning eyes, " is to have my 
 husband's death revenged, and it shall be 
 revenged, yet !" 
 
 " On whom would you revenge it?" asked 
 Marianna, " On the Brazilians ?" 
 23*
 
 270 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 " Yes, indeed. The blood-sucking wretches. 
 Oh, I could" 
 
 " Yes, interrupted Marianna, " but the 
 Brazilians are completely out of our reach, 
 for, now, we have no vessel that can venture 
 far from the coast. The best thing that we 
 can do is to be revenged on the cause of this 
 sorrowful misfortune." 
 
 "What is that?" 
 
 " Why, it is this way that our people have 
 of taking things away from their rightful 
 owners, and sometimes ill-treating the owners, 
 if they want their property back again," an- 
 swered Marianna. 
 
 " AY ell," returned the widow, moodily, 
 "since this has happened to my husband, I 
 don't care what any one else does, or what be- 
 comes of them !" 
 
 " Yes, here are these two dear little boys 
 of yours, that I hope will grow up to be a
 
 WKKCKKJfc'fl GRAND-CHILI). 271 
 
 joy and comfort to their mother's heart. 
 Would you not like to see them come to. be 
 honest, respectable men, whom no one could 
 dare to call " pirates," or "thieves?" Then, 
 if they should never break the laws, their 
 country would protect them against the Bra- 
 zilians, or any body else, and would make that 
 person pay dearly that should dare to raise 
 a hand against their lives !" 
 
 " Indeed, I wish it could be so ;" answered 
 the mother, as she looked at her children ; 
 " but I suppose they will grow up to be just 
 like the other wreckers." 
 
 " No," said Mariaima, " Mrs. Giles and I 
 are going to try to do something for the 
 children of this place, to save them from such 
 dangers as their fathers have perished by. 
 Next Sunday, I mean to gather the boys and 
 p'irls in Mrs. Giles's house and teach them 
 
 C3 
 
 good things out of the Bible, that will be
 
 272 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 useful to them all their lives. Wont you 
 let your little Johnnie come, Mrs. Clarke P 
 
 Marianna asked this question with undis- 
 sembled anxiety, and, after a moment's pause,. 
 was rejoiced to hear the frank response, 
 k% Yes, to-be-sure. It can't hurt him, any- 
 how !" 
 
 Having gained this much, Yon Ulden's 
 granddaughter proceeded to visit another 
 woman who had lost near relatives when the 
 yacht was captured, and some of those who 
 had not, were easily convinced that they 
 ought to accept the late calamity as a warn- 
 ing to train up their children in a better way 
 than that which the elder generation had 
 pursued. Others of a more careless disposi- 
 tion, gave their consent also, partly to oblige 
 Mariamia, and partly because, as one of them 
 said, she u s 'posed it would be some fun for 
 the young ones/ 1
 
 WBKCKKR$ RA.ND-OHJLI>. 273 
 
 Tlie fathers, as a general thing, seemed to 
 regard it as a matter of not much consequence 
 one way or the other. So long as they them- 
 selves were not required to attend upon any 
 religious service, they were content. But 
 some of the parents, when they accepted Ma- 
 rianna's offer, did so with a hearty satisfac- 
 tion ; for there are few fathers and mothers 
 o ignorant, or so hardened, as not to he ca- 
 pable of forming a wish that their children 
 may be wiser and better than themselves. 
 At some of the wrecker's cottages, however, 
 Marianna had to talk a good deal before she 
 could effect her object, and both her grand- 
 father and Bessie complained so much when 
 she stayed long away from home, that two or 
 three days elapsed before she could get 
 through with all her visits. 
 
 Each visit from Marianna was followed up 
 on the succeeding day, by one from Mrs.
 
 274: WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 Giles, whose conversation was directed to the 
 same object, and whose words, simple and 
 unpolished as they were, had great weight 
 with the neighbors. 
 
 The boys and girls, when asked if they 
 wished to go, almost always said u Yes," out 
 of curiosity to see to what a Sunday-school 
 was like. 
 
 The first Sabbath, Marianna had quite an 
 encouraging attendance of children, from 
 four years old to fourteen, in Giles's sitting- 
 room, and Bessie Ferrand occupied a chair 
 by the youthful teacher. Bessie was the only 
 scholar who had on shoes or stockings ; and 
 those restless bare feet, which were almost 
 continually kicking and flourishing about, 
 were all unwashed, for very few of their 
 owners had even clean faces or hands. So 
 far from any of these children ever having at- 
 tended a Sunday-school before, they had
 
 : WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 275 
 
 never hoard of such an institution, and it 
 may be easily imagined that Marianna her- 
 self knew very little about the way in which 
 these schools are managed. The children 
 spoke aloud to each other, without hesitation, 
 about whatever came uppermost in their 
 minds. There was considerable laughing 
 and playing, and many complaints of pinch- 
 ings, pushings, and strikings, followed by 
 threats to pay back these injuries, when the 
 Sunday-school was over. Marianna, however, 
 was neither surprised nor discouraged by all 
 this, but thought herself sufficiently fortunate 
 in being able to gain the attention of her wild 
 flock, whenever she spoke to them. 
 
 She commenced by singing a hymn, to 
 which all the children listened with absorbed 
 and pleas-jd attention ; but, when she endeav- 
 ortd to teach them the words, their rustic 
 bashf illness would not permit them to attempt
 
 276 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 to sing. Marianna then read aloud a chapter 
 from the New Testament, giving clear arid 
 simple explanations as she went along, and 
 she was gratified to hear some of the children 
 asking questions in regard to what had been 
 read, though it took a good deal of time 
 to answer those questions fully and plainly 
 enough to make herself understood. But 
 these scholars could not get any lessons, be- 
 cause none of them could read, and very 
 few even knew their letters. Marianna saw 
 that this ignorance was a great obstacle, and, 
 therefore, she spent the most of the first Sun- 
 day-school session in giving her scholars in- 
 struction in the alphabet, or in easy spelling. 
 Next Sunday, on hearing little Bessie join 
 Marianna in singing a simple hymn, some of 
 the most ambitious pupils were convinced 
 that they, also, must have the ability to learn 
 to sing it, and they made considerable pro-
 
 WRECK EK'S GRAND-CHILD. 277 
 
 gress in that one afternoon. The rest of the 
 scholars followed their example, and Marian- 
 na then gave them texts of Scripture to com- 
 mit to memory from her dictation. We can 
 easily believe that it was hard work for this 
 young girl to teach a school in which the 
 scholars had no books, and could not have 
 used them if they had ; and where she was 
 obliged to repeat over and over 'everything 
 which she wished her pupils to learn ; yet 
 she thought herself fully compensated by the 
 progress which they made. 
 
 The wreckers and their wives began to re- 
 gard their children as prodigies, when they 
 heard them singing hymns, and repeating 
 what they had learned on the Sabbath ; and, in 
 order to have the satisfaction of seeing and 
 hearing them in the very act of acquiring 
 this wonderful knowledge, many of the 
 mothers and some of the fathers now came 
 24
 
 278 WKECKER'S GKAND-CHILD. 
 
 in, and remained as spectators and list- 
 eners, during the Sabbath-school exercises. 
 They were silent and respectful, for they 
 felt astonished at the energy and tact of Ma- 
 rianna, and were touched by the love and 
 patience which inspired her in her work. 
 
 A young woman, the daughter of one of 
 the wreckers, who had always been remark- 
 able for her seriousness and quiet disposition, 
 was so charmed with Marianna's work that 
 .she volunteered to assist her in it. and it soon 
 became evident that she was taught of God 
 for this purpose. Finding that the whole 
 settlement was becoming interested in the 
 Sunday-school, Giles set to work and collected 
 a Bible-class of men, and Mrs. Giles, though 
 with much trembling and self-distrust, suf- 
 fered herself to be persuaded to become the 
 teacher of a little band of women . 
 
 The progress of the Sunday-school was at-
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 2 TO 
 
 tended by a corresponding reform in the 
 grown people of the wrecker community. 
 Samuel Giles was now the man who had 
 most influence and authority among the 
 wreckers, and he was resolved, henceforth, 
 to walk in the fear of God. For awhile, 
 he did not explain to his companions 
 the exact nature of the resolutions which lie- 
 had taken ; nor did he urge them, in so- 
 many words, to pledge themselves to a new 
 course of conduct. He preached to them, 
 only by his daily example, by actions of hu- 
 manity, honesty, and self-sacrifice, by fre- 
 quent references to God, as being both the 
 witness and the judge of all things, and by 
 reading his Bible, and holding domestic wor- 
 ,-hip, with his wife, regardless of contemp- 
 tuous or disapproving beholders. When any 
 man seemed serious or impressed, Giles took 
 the opportunity of telling him how, through
 
 U80 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 the merit of atoning blood, we may become 
 heirs to the riches of God in Christ Jesus. 
 Marianna used all her powers of mind to 
 win the females of the settlement to love the 
 beauty of holiness ; and Mrs. Giles, though 
 naturally a woman of few words, could al- 
 ways clearly and distinctly bear witness to 
 the truth, when she felt it her duty to do so. 
 That divine and mysterious power which 
 was, at first, a hidden leaven, worked grad- 
 ually and noiselessly, until, at length, its ef- 
 fects might have been seen by any eye. Some 
 of the wreckers openly testified their repen- 
 tance for past wickedness, and embraced 
 the Saviour's offers of pardon. The Sabbath 
 was generally observed ; shipwrecked peo- 
 ple were treated with kindness and humanity ; 
 and it now came to be considered a disgrace- 
 ful thing for any wrecker to keep possession
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 281 
 
 of goods whose lawful owner was present to 
 claim them. 
 
 We have related these pleasing changes 
 with, some rapidity, but it must not be sup- 
 posed that they were the growth of a few 
 days. The degree of progress which we have 
 just described, was not reached until nearly 
 two years after the capture of Lieutenant 
 Ferrand. During that time, no tidings of 
 the unfortunate prisoner reached the ears of 
 ;.iiy one who took an interest in his fate, and 
 the people of the wrecker settlement always 
 spoke of him as one who was numbered with 
 the dead. 
 
 Bessie was now a lovely and intelligent 
 child of six years, and, as she grew older, 
 instead of gradually losing the remembrance 
 of her father, she dwelt upon his loss with a 
 deeper regret, and cherished more fondly the 
 dim hope that he might yet be restored to
 
 28^ WKECKEK S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 her. Xot a night or a morning came, but 
 I3essie, with folded hands and up-lifted gaze, 
 knelt and prayed, as Marianna had long 
 since taught her, that God would give her 
 father back to her, even on this earth, or, if 
 this was not the Divine will, that she might 
 meet him, at last, among the glorified in 
 Heaven. Very often did Bessie and Marian- 
 na sit beside the island shore, and talk of 
 Lieutenant Ferrand, until both of them, 
 sinking into silence, would remain gazing 
 across the sea, as if in the hope of seeing 
 .some vessel appearing on the distant waves, 
 to bring back the absent and lamented one. 
 It was at the time of which we are now 
 speaking, that a stranger, or a person who, at 
 first appeared to be such, arrived at the 
 wreckers' settlement. He was a tall youth 
 of respectable and prepossessing appearance, 
 who would have been supposed, from the
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 283 
 
 manliness of his figure and bearing, to 
 number at least twenty-one years, though 
 in reality he was but little over eighteen. 
 The iirst person he enquired for was Lieu- 
 tenant Ferrand, and on hearing the little 
 that was known of his late, he covered his 
 face with his hands and wept in an agony ot 
 grief and disappointment. This conduct 
 caused a number of persons to gather around 
 and gaze at him, and a new surprise awaited 
 them when they learned that they were now 
 looking once more upon the long absent 
 Hugh Itoss ! 
 
 Giles immediately invited the youth to his 
 cottage, where Marianna and Bessie happened 
 to be visiting Mrs. Giles. Marianna cor- 
 dially greeted Hugh when she learned who 
 lie was, for she would certainly not hav 
 known him without an introduction. 
 
 Hugh recognized her at once, for with
 
 284 WBECKEB^ (.'HAND-CHILD.. 
 
 the exception of having grown to a womanly 
 height, she had changed but little in appear- 
 ance since he last saw her. 
 
 "I see," said Hugh, "that joy and grief 
 are mixed in every scene of our lives. The 
 first person whom I spoke with, on coming 
 hack to this place, told me most sorrowful 
 and unwelcome news ; but this is a happy 
 moment, when I have a chance at last, uf 
 thanking you, Miss Marianna, for all that you 
 have done for me!" 
 
 "I never knew," said Marianna, '"that I 
 was privileged to do anything for you.*' 
 
 " Yes," exclaimed Hugh, " it was you vho 
 first told me of a Saviour; it was you -\\ho 
 gave me this Bible, and bade me look intu it 
 whenever I wished to know that Saviour's 
 will, so that I might guide my conduct ac- 
 cordingly. Tins Lible, ever since then, h::6 
 been my counsellor, and a " lamp to my feet."
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 285 
 
 By clinging to its principles, in the midst of 
 every temptation, I have gained the friend- 
 ship of the good and generous, who contri- 
 buted of their means to educate me for a 
 minister of the gospel. I have finished my 
 first term at the theological seminary, and I 
 have taken advantage of this vacation to do 
 what I have long intended, come here, and 
 see if I can accomplish anything for the souls 
 of the wreckers." 
 
 " And do these Christian people, who are 
 educating you, pay for your board, clothing 
 and traveling expenses?" asked Giles. 
 
 " No," said Hugh, I neither expect nor 
 wish them to do that. During the college 
 terms, I devote my spare hours to copying 
 for lawyers, and in vacation, I act as a col- 
 porteur, going about selling religious books, 
 and getting subscribers for religious news- 
 papers. I am very thankful indeed to be able
 
 286 WRECKER'S <;I:AXIM:HII.D. 
 
 to earn my own living, and pursue my studies, 
 at the same time, and if the Lord will bring 
 me into the gospel ministry, and bless my 
 labors in it, I ask for nothing more !" 
 
 Marianna, as was generally the case, 
 when she went away from home, had been 
 obliged to promise her grandfather that she 
 would soon return, and, after a little more 
 conversation in regard to Hugh's future 
 work, she rose to depart. Bessie had been 
 out upon the . beach, gathering she -Is and 
 curious pebbles, but, at Marianna's call, she 
 now came bounding into the cottage. 
 
 "Why, what sweet little girl is this C 
 asked Hugh, taking the child's hand. 
 
 "Whom does she look like*" said Ma- 
 rianna." 
 
 "She has Lieutenant Ferrand's eyes," re- 
 plied Hugh, turning pale with emotion. 
 
 Marianna Gen told him of the coming of
 
 AVllEOKEll's GKAXD-C1IILD. 287 
 
 Lieutenant Ferrand's wife and child to 
 Florida, and of Mrs. Ferrand's death, cir- 
 cumstances with which Hugh was unac- 
 quainted, as they had taken place since his 
 departure from that neighborhood. This 
 story was, to young Ross, a very interesting 
 and affecting one, and, at its conclusion, he 
 clasped Bessie to his bosom with a fervor that 
 startled her. 
 
 " My heart will never be at rest," exclaimed 
 Hugh, " until I have found out the fete of 
 this dear child's father, and until I have tried 
 to do something in his behalf, if he is yet 
 alive." 
 
 Giles declared that Hugh must be his 
 guest while he remained in Florida, and 
 young Ross slept that night in the room 
 which had formerly been occupied by Lieu- 
 tenant Ferrand, and where the wrecker's 
 orphan boy had bidden farewell to his earliest
 
 288 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 friend, before he went forth, alone, into the 
 world. 
 
 The next day was Sunday, and Hugh was 
 much surprised, that afternoon, to see all the 
 children, and a majority of the grown people 
 in the settlement, come thronging into Giles's 
 house. Marianna and Bessie were among 
 the earliest arrivals. Marianna greatly en- 
 joyed Hugh's unspeakable astonishment, 
 when he found that here was really a Sunday- 
 school, and a nourishing one too, in the 
 wreckers' village. By the time the exer- 
 cises closed, young Ross had sufficiently re- 
 covered from his bewilderment to address 
 those who were there present, and to endeavor 
 to tell them something of the joy which he 
 felt at seeing what God had wrought among 
 them. He told the wreckers' children that 
 he had been one of themselves, and one of 
 the poorest and most neglected boys in the
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 289 
 
 wrecker settlement; but that while he re- 
 mained in his native place, no Sunday-school 
 had ever opened for him those kindly doors 
 which welcome the humblest and most des- 
 pised. He was quite a tall boy when he last 
 left the settlement, and went to Tallahassee, 
 but he had become one of the scholars of a 
 Sunday-school in that city, and by the in- 
 structions which he there received, had 
 learned to understand more and more fully 
 the teachings of that Bible which was his 
 only guide and counsellor. When he left 
 Tallahassee, and went to another city, to take 
 a situation in a store, he immediately joined 
 another Sunday-school, and it was his teacher 
 there who had set on foot a movement, 
 among the wealthy members of the church, 
 to have him educated for the ministry. Hav- 
 ing thus related his story to the listening 
 
 25
 
 '290 \VKKCKKirs GRAND-CHILI). 
 
 children, Hugh addressed himself to the 
 grown people present. 
 
 " Your Sunday-school," said he, " has got 
 so far that it is time for it to go a good deal 
 farther. Already, this room is so crowded 
 that it is neither pleasant nor convenient, 
 and soon it will be impossible to find room 
 for all who wish to come in. Why not set 
 to work and put up a building that will be 
 worthy of the purpose, and a credit to this 
 place?" 
 
 This was one of the thoughts that are des- 
 tined not to die, and be forgotten, because 
 God sets the seal of His approval upon them, 
 and in their influence and effects they be- 
 come immortal. 
 
 The people talked over the new suggestion, 
 and Marianna and the Gileses gave it all the 
 weight of their hearty approval. By the ad- 
 vice of Giles, three or four of the wreckers
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 291 
 
 had built for themselves small trading vessels, 
 and a couple of these men started for the 
 nearest town upon the coast, to bring home 
 such building materials as were not to be 
 procured near the settlement. Almost all 
 the wreckers gave more or less assistance in 
 putting up the building, and not many weeks 
 after Hugh had first started the idea, it was 
 ready for use. The edifice was one story 
 high, and contained but one room ; but this 
 room was spacious enough to wear, in the 
 eyes of the wrecker community, something 
 of an air of grandeur. It was, in truth, a 
 pleasant and airy apartment, with neatly 
 plastered and white-washed walls. Under 
 Hugh's directions, a number of benches, and 
 a reading desk, were made, and arranged in 
 proper order. 
 
 On the morning of the next Sabbath, after 
 the completion of the building, Hugh
 
 292 WRKCKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 preached in it, the first religious discourse 
 ever publicly delivered upon this portion of 
 the coast of Florida. Curiosity induced a 
 good attendance, and the young theological 
 student adapted the style of his discourse to 
 his auditors, making it plain, elear, pointed, 
 and energetic. 
 
 Hugh saw that some of his hearers were 
 seriously impressed, and he felt that there 
 was more hope of these people than of those 
 who, hearing the gospel often preached, gain 
 nothing by it except the facility of treating 
 with cold indifference both the gracious 
 promises, and the terrible warnings of the 
 Almighty. In the afternoon, Sunday-school 
 was held, for the first time, in the new room, 
 but, before the services could begin, at least 
 ten minutes had to be devoted to the child- 
 ren's exclamations of delight concerning 
 " Such a splendid, beautiful place !*' The
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 293 
 
 parents, with a not inexcusable pride and 
 self-gratulation, exchanged remarks to the 
 same effect. Years ago, Hugh had received 
 from Marianna his first religious instructions, 
 and he was now enabled, though in a very 
 small degree, to make some repayment, by 
 telling her how things were managed in the 
 city Sunday-schools, as regarded many little 
 details of which she had hitherto been igno- 
 rant. 
 
 On the following day, Hugh said to Ma- 
 rianna, " Now that my first duty here is ac- 
 complished, I will, for awhile, give my whole 
 mind to an effort to do something for Lieuten- 
 ant Ferrand. First, T must goto Brazil, and 
 learn if he is still alive, and if so, upon what 
 grounds he is kept a prisoner. Then, I will 
 return to New- York, and see if he has no 
 friends or relations who will interest them- 
 selves in his behalf." 
 25*
 
 294 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 Marianna warmly approved of this design, 
 and, on the same evening, Hugh explained 
 it before a meeting of the wreckers. Each 
 of the men whom we have mentioned as 
 owning vessels, immediately offered Hugh 
 his services, and the use of his craft, to go to 
 Brazil, and afterwards to New York, for the 
 purpose of making an attempt to liberate 
 Lieutenant Ferrand. Hugh could accept 
 the offer of only one of these men, and, after 
 making a selection, the next day was fixed for 
 the time of starting upon the voyage. 
 
 Just before he sailed, Hugh went to take 
 leave of Marianna and Bessie, and to receive 
 their assurance that not a day or night, and, 
 indeed, not one hour of waking life should 
 pass, in which their prayers would not ascend 
 to Heaven for the success of his mission. 
 
 "I think," said Marianna, "that, while you 
 are away, you will need more money than
 
 WRECK KK S GRAND-CHILD. 295 
 
 you now have. Take these, and sell them." 
 As she spoke, she placed in his hand a little 
 box, containing a pair of diamond ear-drops, 
 and then went on to say, " Years ago, grand- 
 father got these from some lady who was 
 drowned upon our coast. He gave them to 
 me, and now, for the first time, I feel 
 glad of having them, because they may help 
 you in trying to restore Bessie's father to 
 freedom !" 
 
 When Hugh bade good-bye to Bessie, and 
 stooped .down to kiss her, she flung her arms 
 nro;ind his neck, and exclaimed, " I will love 
 you always, if you bring my Papa back to 
 me again !" 
 
 Marianna did not speak, but her swimming 
 eyes and quivering lip told how deep were 
 her feelings. The vessel was ready, the wind 
 was favorable, and Hugh set *ail upon his 
 voyage.
 
 206 
 
 About a week after this, a large vessel 
 struck, and partially went to pieces, upon a 
 reef opposite the wreckers' settlement. Thi^ 
 vessel was very handsomely fitted up, and 
 furnished, and had on board a well assorted 
 cargo, so that a temptation was here offered 
 to the wreckers, to resume their old habits? 
 of greedy and lawless plunder. But there 
 were several men who had openly come out 
 upon the Lord's side, in a little prayer-meet- 
 ing which, for the last two Sabbath evenings 
 Giles had held in the new Sunday-school 
 room ; and these men had an influence in 
 the community that controlled some others 
 who would willingly have yielded to tempta- 
 tion. Under the direction of Giles and his 
 fellow Christians, every individual on board 
 of the vessel was brought safely to land, 
 l.efore any attempt was made to save the car 
 j. Among the persons rescued was the
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 297 
 
 owner of the vessel, a wealthy merchant 
 named Le Blanc, with his wife and three 
 children. Mr. Le Blanc had with him a very 
 large sum of money, in a tin box, but anxiety 
 for the safety of his wife and children caused 
 him to forget this box, and it was left on 
 board of the wreck, where it was found by 
 two of the converted wreckers. They im- 
 mediately brought it to Le Blanc, saying, 
 " Here, sir, is your money." Surprised and 
 pleased by the honesty and humanity of 
 those among whom he had been thrown, Le 
 Blanc determined that these men should be 
 rewarded in a generous manner. He made a 
 handsome present of money to the two whom 
 we have just mentioned, and to each of 
 those who had been instrumental in saving 
 the lives of himself and family, and he like- 
 wise declared that all the wreckers were wel- 
 come to divide among themselves the cargo,
 
 298 WRECKERS GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 provisions, and all the vessel's furniture 
 which had been preserved. 
 
 Xo\v," *aid Giles, to some persons who 
 had murmured and sneered at the plans of 
 reform, "you have said that honesty would 
 be a losing business, but you see that it is 
 not so !" 
 
 Mrs. Le Blanc was a Roman Catholic 
 lady, but, like everyone else, she was charmed 
 with Marianna, and was very anxious that 
 she should pay a visit to the city of St. Augus- 
 tine, where the Le Blancs resided. This was 
 Marianna' s first opportunity of visiting a city, 
 and yet she unhesitatingly declined to leave, 
 even for a short time, her grandfather, Bessie 
 and the Sunday-school. 
 
 At length, Mr. Le Blanc said, " Well, Miss 
 Von Ulden, if you will come with us for a 
 week or ten days, I will send back with you
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 209 
 
 a nice little library of books for your Sun- 
 day-school." 
 
 Marianna yielded to this offer, and ascom- 
 panied the Le Blanc family to St. Augustine. 
 Her going away, even for a short time, 
 caused a deep sensation in the wrecker settle- 
 ment. Though the people there had always 
 loved and honored Marianna, this lirst period 
 of her absence from them revealed to their 
 hearts, more plainly than ever before, how 
 very dear and precious this young girl was 
 to all around her. Many of tho children 
 and young people viewed her departure 
 wi h positive alarm and consternation, as 
 though they feared that, when she was ab- 
 sent, all the social and religious frame of 
 things would become disjointed and fall to 
 pieces. Mar i anna's grandfather was left to 
 the companionship of little Bessie, to whom 
 he had become much attached. "While her
 
 300 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 father was there, and frequently visited the 
 island, to see his child, Yon Ulden had not 
 deigned to take any notice of Bessie, lest she 
 should tell Lieutenant Ferrand of his conde- 
 scension. But, since her father was gone, 
 the old man unbent so far as to show that he 
 considered Bessie a pleasant and amusing 
 companion for his otherwise dull and tedious 
 hours. She gained upon his favor more 
 rapidly by her frank and fearless disposition, 
 which caused her to talk to Yon Ulden as 
 freely as to any one else, and, when he said 
 things which were meant to tease and dis- 
 concert her, she often answered him with a 
 saucy archness at which the old man would 
 grimly smile. 
 
 As we have said, St. Augustine was the 
 first city Marianna had ever visited, and on 
 arriving there, she saw around her as much
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 301 
 
 that was new and wonderful as most people 
 would notice at Constantinople, or Cairo. 
 
 " Ah !" said Mrs. Le Blanc, " just wait un- 
 til Sunday, and go with me to church, and 
 you will see the finest sight of all !" 
 
 When Marianna entered the Catholic 
 Church which Mrs. Le Blanc attended, she 
 became dizzy with astonishment and admira- 
 tion. The architecture, the paintings, the 
 rich adornments, and -the music, were unlike 
 any thing she had ever thought or dreamed of 
 before. Yet, when the Catholic lady proudly 
 inquired if this was not the best church to 
 go to, Marianna innocently replied, " Oh, 
 Mrs. Le Blanc, it is very splendid, but it 
 does not feel like a church !" 
 
 Mr. Le Blanc kept his promise, and provi- 
 ded Marianna with a nice little Sunday-school 
 library to take home with her. All the 
 elder children had, by this time, learned to 
 26
 
 302 WRECKER' 3 GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 read, and, when this treasure of books ar- 
 rived, they thought themselves the most 
 favored persons upon earth. The next Sal>- 
 bath after her return, on entering the Sun- 
 day-school room, she was received with 
 cheering demonstrations of welcome. When 
 she had an opportunity of speaking quietly 
 aside with Mrs. Giles, she remarked, "How 
 much more pleasant this place is, than the 
 grand Catholic church where I went with 
 Mrs. Le Blanc ! The painted glass windows 
 looked very rich, but they kept out the light, 
 so that one could scarcely tell whether it 
 was night or day ; and, they have great tall 
 candles burning all the time, in that huge 
 gloomy church, like glow-worms in a cave ! 
 Now, here, we have God's own light ; and 
 the sunshine, streaming in so cheerfully up- 
 on the pure white walls, makes me think of 
 the brightness that is in one's heart, when
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 303 
 
 the gospel truth has lighted it up, and the 
 Holy Spirit has purified it ! Instead of 
 burning incense, filling the place with its 
 smoke and sickly smell, we have the scent of 
 fresh flowers, coming in at the open win- 
 dows. Instead of singing in a strange lan- 
 guage, that one cannot tell a word of, we 
 have those dear hymns, that seem as if they 
 were telling in music the innermost thoughts 
 of our hearts; and even the sound of the 
 great organ is not so grand and solemn 
 as that roaring of the sea that comes from 
 the beach !"
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 VON ULDEN IN THE SUNDAY-SCHOOL. THE RE- 
 SULT OF HUGH'S JOURNEY IN BEHALF OF 
 LIEUTENANT FERRAND. THE PRISON- 
 ER'S EXPERIENCE. DEATH OF 
 
 VON ULDEN. CONCLUSION. 
 
 ' VER since Marianna first commenced 
 Jp her Sunday-school, Bessie had re- 
 peatedly asked " Grandfather," ar 
 she called Von ITlden, to go there \yith her 
 and ho had always refused. Marianna arm 
 Mrs. Giles, had given the same invitation, 
 but in vain. One Sabbath, Bessie was par- 
 ticularly importunate, and, partly to humor 
 her, and partly to pass away the time, Von 
 Uldcn consented to go. It was the first time 
 that he had been over to the main land since 
 that occasion, years ago, when the scorn and 
 
 26* (305)
 
 ")fi WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 insolence of the wreckers had driven him to 
 return, in an agony of rage and mortification, 
 t ) his lonely island. 
 
 But now, when the aged man entered the 
 Sunday-school room with one hand grasping 
 his staff', and the other held by little Bessie, 
 every one gazed at him in silence, and with 
 a deeper seriousness than . usual. Marianna 
 hastened to provide him with a comfortable 
 seat, and Giles, coming up, shook hands 
 with him, and expressed his satisfaction at 
 seeing him there. Von Ulden sat in silence, 
 with his eyes fixed upon the floor, and fea- 
 tures as grim and rigid as usual. 
 
 WhiMi the children joined their voices in 
 singing a hymn, Yon Ulden suddenly raised 
 his eyes and looked around at them. Now, 
 the Sunday-school boys and girls of the 
 wrecker settlement were all clean and neat 
 in their dress, and the appearance of both
 
 WKECKEK'S GRAND-CHILD. 307 
 
 scholars and parents betokened a decent 
 pride that had once been unknown to them. 
 Many of the children were pretty and inter- 
 esting. Their faces showed their earnest in- 
 terest in the hymn that flowed so sweetly 
 from their lips. No human heart is all of 
 stone, and Yon Ulden never was so easily 
 softened as in the presence of childhood ; 
 for men and women had given him only 
 what he imagined were just causes to hate 
 them. It had been many, many years si net- 
 he had heard such music as the artless melody 
 of those childish voices, and there seemed to 
 thrill within his breast a chord which hud 
 been so long untouched that he had forgotten 
 its existence. Again he cast down his eyes, 
 but now all his features seemed to be work- 
 ing with the effect to surpress a deep, un- 
 wonted emotion. 
 
 It seemed, however, that it was not an un-
 
 308 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 pleasant one, for, on each succeeding Sabbath 
 Yon Ulden suffered himself to be led by lit- 
 tle Bessie to that hallowed place. His chief 
 object was to listen to the singing of the 
 children, and it was marvellous to see a soft- 
 ening and humanizing tear sometimes glide 
 down the deeply furrowed cheek of the aged 
 and hardened man ! 
 
 One Sabbath evening, Marianna invited 
 her grandfather to go with her to the prayer- 
 meeting, and he consented. Several persons 
 arose in succession, to tell what the Lord had 
 done for them, or to ask the prayers of others 
 in their behalf. As the meeting was about 
 to conclude, Von Ulden half arose, but seemed 
 to change his mind, and was about to sink 
 back again, when Marianna placed her hand 
 beneath his arm, and whispering, " Yes, dear 
 grandfather," gently assisted him to his 
 feet. There was silence for a moment or
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 309 
 
 two, and then, in hoarse and faltering tones, 
 Von Ulden said, " I was going to ask you to 
 pray for me, but it is of no use ; I am too 
 wicked. There is no hope for such a man as 
 I am!" 
 
 " Yes, there is !" cried Giles, " The lamp 
 of life is still burning! Jesus still says, 
 * Come !' " And he and two others poured 
 out supplications of heart-warm fervor, that 
 light from Heaven might dawn upon Yon 
 Ulden' s soul. The old man was greatly 
 moved, yet, he was not able to realize that 
 there could be mercy for him. But, " Oh, 
 the height and depth of the goodness of 
 God !" After a severe spiritual struggle of 
 several days and nights, Yon Ulden found 
 peace at the foot of the Cross. He never 
 said much concerning his feelings, but, all 
 could see, by his words, and ways, and actions, 
 that he had become a new creature.
 
 310 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 Marianna received a letter from Hugh, con- 
 veying deeply interesting tidings from Brazil. 
 He had learned that Lieutenant Ferrand was 
 still alive, and imprisoned in a certain for- 
 tress, but lie was not permitted to see him. 
 However, Hugh had held a long conversa- 
 tion with the American Consul at Rio, and 
 by relating Lieutenant Ferrand's whole his- 
 tory, had so far interested our Consul that 
 he immediately applied to the Brazilian 
 authorities, upon the prisoner's behalf. The 
 authorities agreed, as a compromise, to re- 
 lease Ferrand, if a large sum of money was 
 paid down, by way of fine; and Hugh was 
 now about to start for Xew York, in order to 
 see if such an amount could be raised by ap- 
 plying to the Lieutenant's friends. 
 
 Six weeks more elapsed, when, one bright 
 lovely morning, there was seen coming over 
 the sunny ocean, a vessel which was quickly
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 811 
 
 recognized as the craft that had carried Hugh 
 from Florida. Those who first saw it hast- 
 ened to communicate the news toothers, and 
 every man, woman or child, in the settlement 
 who was able to leave his or her dwelling, 
 came hurrying down to the beach. Marian- 
 na and Bessie ran to the island shore, and 
 stood gazing speechlessly at the coming ves- 
 sel, each with her hands clasped tightly to- 
 gether. 
 
 At some distance from the shore, the ves- 
 sel cast anchor, and a small boat was lowered, 
 into which four men descended. The little 
 boat rowed quickly toward's Yon Ulden's 
 island, and, soon, all who were gazing to- 
 wards it saw that two of the men were 
 wreckers, who held the oars, another was 
 Hugh, and the fourth was Lieutenant Fer- 
 rand. 
 
 Loud cheers, and shouts of joy, burst from
 
 312 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 all the groups who were gathered upon the 
 pnowy beach, and the wreckers in the boat 
 shouted in return ; but Lieutenant Ferrand 
 and Hugh could only take off their hats and 
 wave them to the crowd, in silence. 
 
 "Minna, isn't that my Papa, sitting by 
 Hugh ?'" fairly shrieked Bessie. 
 
 " It is !" gasped the almost tainting Ma- 
 rianna. 
 
 The boat, as we have said, was rowed to- 
 wards Von Ulden's island, and, presently, 
 Lieutenant Ferrand sprang upon the shore. 
 Bessie flew to meet him, and when he lifted 
 her in his arms, she clung about his neck as 
 though determined, by holding him thus, to 
 prevent the risk of ever being separated from 
 her father again. Marianna sank down upon 
 her knees on the sand ; it was the only posi- 
 tion that seemed natural to her at such a 
 moment. Her cheeks were pale, yet her
 
 WRECKER'S ORAXD-CIIILD. 313 
 
 face was radiant; her hands were folded 
 over her bosom, and her eyes raised to Hea- 
 ven in an ecstacy of gratitude and devotion. 
 Hugh stood by in silence, but he would not 
 have exchanged the feelings of that never-to- 
 be-forgotten moment for a whole life-time of 
 selfish pleasure. It was such a moment as 
 seems to atone for years of darkness and 
 trouble, and to vindicate the goodness of 
 Providence in mysteries we cannot fathom. 
 Hugh had obtained a part of the large 
 sum required for Ferrand's release from the 
 Lieutenant's wealthy relatives; but the 
 greater portion was contributed by old friends, 
 who had not forgotten how they had been 
 benefitted by Ferrand's generosity, in the 
 days when he was rich and prosperous. AV e 
 will not attempt to describe the emotions felt 
 upon both sides, when Hugh appeared in 
 Ferrand's prison, to tell him that his captiv- 
 27
 
 314 WRECKER'S ^RAND-CHILD. 
 
 ity was at an end. The poor boy, upon 
 whose account he had incurred his suspen- 
 sion from the navy, was revealed as the lib- 
 erator and benefactor of him for whose kind- 
 ness it had once seemed impossible that he 
 should ever make the least return ! 
 
 Ferrand had raised Marianna from her 
 kneeling attitude upon the sand, and was hold- 
 ing her hands clasped in his, when the sound 
 of tottering steps was heard, and Von Ulden 
 appeared, leaning upon his staff. He extended 
 liis hand to the returned prisoner, and said, 
 " Come to my house, Lieutenant Ferrand. 
 It was once a tiger s den ; it is now the 
 dwelling of a poor, repentant sinner !" 
 
 " Yes, dear sir," said Hugh, " do go to 
 Mr. Yon Ulden's house, and I will cross over 
 to the mainland, and tell the people that you 
 will receive their congratulations to-morrow. 
 
 Lieutenant Ferrand was not nearly so
 
 WRECKED GUA.N.D-CIILLD. 315 
 
 much broken down by his long confinement 
 as Marianna and Hugh had apprehended he 
 would be, and, during the trip from Brazil, 
 he had regained not a little of the strength 
 which he had lost, yet the effects of his im- 
 prisonment were easily to be seen. Close 
 confinement, and prison, fare, had blanched 
 the clear light brownish tint of his complex- 
 ion to a chalky white, and he was thinner 
 than he had ever been before. Something 
 of nervousness appeared in his manner, es- 
 pecially in the wild brightness of his eyes, 
 as he darted them around at those beautiful 
 and familiar scenes from which, but lately, he 
 had seemed to be cut off forever. Yet, he 
 acted and spoke with surprising energy and 
 cheerfulness, considering the severe ordoal 
 through which he had passed, and his sudden, 
 change of situation. 
 
 Lieutenant Ferrand had been sea tod in
 
 316 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 Von Ulden's house but a few moments, when 
 Giles and his wife called to see him. Hugh 
 bad informed the wreckers that the Lieuten- 
 ant's present strength was not equal to any 
 more excitement that day, but that he would 
 see them the next morning. Giles, however, 
 could not .wait even this long before he gave 
 utterance to what was weighing upon his 
 mind. On entering Lieutenant Ferrand's 
 presence, Giles was greatly agitated, but he 
 Oid not oifer to approach and shake hands, 
 until the Lieutenant came up to him, and 
 taking his hand, said, "Well, my old friend 
 Giles, I am sure that you are glad to see 
 me!" 
 
 " Oh, my dear, injured friend," sobbed the 
 old sailor, " I am glad to have the chance, 
 t'iiitt I have so often longed for, of asking 
 your forgiveness ; and yet I am cut to the 
 heart to think that my selfish persuasions,
 
 WRKCKKR 8 GRAND-CHILD. 317 
 
 and my arguments that were meant to de- 
 ceive botlt myself am] you, led you to be a 
 wrecker, and caused this sad misfortune!" 
 
 "Never mind," said Lieutenant Ferrand, 
 gently and kindly, " we both know better 
 now than we did then. I suppose the mis- 
 fortune you allude to is my being shut up in 
 prison; but, in one respect, it has proved a 
 great blessing to me." 
 
 "How is that?" said Marianna; "Please 
 tell us the whole history, Lieutenant." 
 
 The Lieutenant complied with her request, 
 but we will tell the story somewhat more 
 briefly than he did. When Ferrand first 
 realized tbat he was a prisoner for a long 
 time, perhaps for life, the idea was so in- 
 supportable that he threw himself against 
 the iron-bound door of his cell, as a wild 
 bird, when newly caged, will sometimes dash 
 itself against the wires of its prison. Then, 
 27*
 
 318 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 exhausted in mind and body, lie sank upon 
 his coarse, hard bed, and lay for hours 
 in a trance-like state, while confused and 
 changing images of his past life like a mov- 
 ing panorama swept before him. His jailers 
 fully expected that he would soon either die 
 or go mad, and, on a certain day, one of 
 them said to him, " Well, American, you may 
 be a fine blade at fighting, but I never saw 
 such a poor hand at standing this cage !" 
 
 Ferrand experienced a feeling of sharne 
 at this, and determined that, in future, he 
 would display more fortitude. He knew 
 that, in order to do so, he must have some way 
 of occupying his mind, and he thought of 
 various devices which he had read of as being 
 employed by other unhappy prisoners, t> 
 while away their time, but none of them 
 seemed practicable there. What would he 
 not have given for a book! But then the
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 319 
 
 thought struck him that he had a book, the 
 little Bible that Blanche had given him upon 
 her dying bed, and which the prison authori- 
 ties had permitted him to retain. Blanche 
 had told him, too, that in that book he 
 would find comfort for life's darkest hour ; 
 and he knew that it would furnish him with 
 at least some occupation for his mind. The 
 study of this precious volume now became 
 his daily employment. After reading the 
 whole Bible attentively through, he resolved 
 to commit a large portion of it to memory, 
 iind, during his imprisonment, he learned 
 the whole of the New Testament, besides 
 the Psalms, and other parts of the Old. As 
 we have intimated, Ferrand undertook this 
 merely to give employment to his mind, but 
 the result was far greater than he had ex- 
 pected. Can any one commit to memory, 
 and study over, the recorded words of Jesus,
 
 320 w BECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 and yet fail to find them melt his heart and 
 penetrate his soul ? Often, as Ferrand re- 
 peated some precept, his conscience told him 
 that he had willfully transgressed it, and he 
 felt that had he taken the Bible for his guide, 
 he would never have been shut up in a prison 
 cell, as the leader of a band of wicked and 
 lawless men. He who had always before 
 been ashamed to own, even before God, that 
 he was a great sinner, now bowed his head 
 in shame and self reproach at the thought of 
 his own folly in cherishing such a fatal pride 
 of heart. Yet, deeply convinced as he was. 
 of his life-long error, he did not despair ; 
 for those who study the Bible as attentively 
 as Ferrand did, cannot fail to learn the true 
 remedy for sin. lie acknowledged his utter 
 help! -.ud threw himself entirely up- 
 
 on the merits of Christ. He knelt upon the 
 stone floor of his cell in daily prayer, and
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 321 
 
 enjoyed long and sweet seasons of commun- 
 ion with the Saviour. He fancied that the 
 spirits of his sainted wife and mother were 
 bending over him with approval and joy, 
 and he now felt sure that death, even should 
 it come to him in a prison, would restore 
 their society to him forever. 
 
 While repeating some favorite passages 
 from the Bible, Ferrand would walk up and 
 down the room, for exercise, which did much 
 to preserve his bodily health. His Bible 
 \\-jis the talisman that enabled him to pass 
 through his imprisonment without losing 
 life or reason, and with a resignation which 
 no human philosophy could possibly have 
 supplied. 
 
 Marianna was delighted, but not surprised, 
 by hearing of Ferrand's conversion, for, she 
 had always felt in her heart that so many 
 prayers of true faith could not be lost upon
 
 322 W&ECKEK'S GKAND-CIIILD. 
 
 the ear of Infinite Love and Mercy. Her 
 face was radiant, while, as hostess, she re- 
 ceived the successive parties of wreckers 
 who came to offer their congratulation.- to 
 Lieutenant Ferrand, within the once shun- 
 ned and forbidden precints of Yon Uklen's 
 island ! 
 
 The next day was Sunday, and the Lieuten- 
 ant went with his little girl, and Marianna, 
 and her grandfather, to attend the religious; 
 services upon the main land. As they were 
 coming to Florida, Hugh had told him of 
 those wonderful changes which had taken 
 place among the wreckers, yet, as he walked 
 through the village, he looked around with 
 continued astonishment, When he thought 
 of the wrecker settlement as he had List seen 
 it, it seemed as though this truly Sabbath- 
 like stillness, and all these neatly dressed 
 families- p >ing to the house of worship, must.
 
 GRAND-CHILD. 323 
 
 he features of some strange and pleasant 
 dream. 
 
 "After all," said Ferrand to Marianna, 
 with a smile that was full of feeling, " you 
 were to be the great reformer !" 
 
 "No, no," said Marianna, hastily, "iix 
 was not I ; it was the religion of Jesus !" 
 
 Hugh preached again, that morning, and 
 we need scarcely say that to see Hugh in the 
 sacred desk, and to hear him deliver an ex- 
 cellent discourse, was another subject of 
 grateful meditation for Lieutenant Ferrand. 
 That afternoon, Ferrand was present at the 
 session of the Sunday-school, and as he gazed 
 upon those who were there assembled, he 
 saw many whose faces had been familiar to 
 him two years before, but who had now un- 
 dergone a wondrous transformation. Among 
 these was the girl who had been called by 
 the title of " Spunkey Poll,'' and who, until
 
 324: WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 
 
 Mrs. Ferrand bribed her by the gift of a 
 much handsomer article of the same kind. 
 had been so unwilling to give up the gold 
 chain taken from the drowned body of Mr&. 
 Stillingwell's son. Polly was in the class 
 which Marianna taught, arid she was most 
 fondly attached to her young teacher. There 
 was not a girl in the whole school of neater 
 personal appearance, or more modest and 
 quiet in her behaviour. She now utterly 
 disclaimed her old nickname, and gave good 
 evidence of being deeply impressed upon 
 the subject of religion, so that Marianna 
 hoped soon to see her stand forth as a pro- 
 professed disciple of the Saviour. 
 
 Yon Ulden sat near little Bessie, and di- 
 rectly by the side of her father, his hands 
 resting upon the top of his staff, and his 
 hoary head bent in reverent attention, as, 
 after a long life of sin and profanity, he, at
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 325 
 
 last, received the truths of the Gospel with 
 the meekness of a little child. Lieutenant 
 Ferrand wore an expression so full of be- 
 nignity and happiness that, even to those who 
 had always looked upon him with admiring 
 eyes, his countenance now seemed almost 
 transligured. And what a cheering scene 
 was this to Marianna ! But we will not at- 
 tempt to describe the perfect joy that filled 
 her heart. Let those who would understand 
 it, go and taste for themselves the delight ol 
 being God's instruments in bringing immor- 
 tal souls from death unto life ! 
 
 After the close of the regular exercises, 
 Ferrand rose and addressed the children in 
 some affectionate and encouraging remarks, 
 which were listened to with intense interest. 
 At the evening prayer-meeting, he, for the 
 first time, prayed aloud in public, and then, 
 in a modest and touching manner, related his 
 
 28
 
 326 WRKCKKK'S GRAXI.M HILD. 
 
 religious experience, while a prisoner in 
 Brazil. 
 
 About two weeks afterwards, Yon Ulden 
 was attacked by an illness which, though 
 slight at first, soon proved too severe for so 
 aged and feeble a frame. It was an earlv 
 afternoon in early summer, when Marian na. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Giles, Lieutenant Ferrand, ami 
 Hugh, assembled around the dying bed of 
 Von Ulden. The sunbeams, stealing through 
 the flowering vines that overhung an open 
 window, scattered spots of brightness ovei 
 the snowy counterpane and pillows, and the 
 no less snowy hair and beard of the now 
 departing wrecker. 
 
 " If it had not been for Divine grace," 
 said he to Marianna, " this hour would have 
 separated you and me forever ; but, we 
 know that it is not for long. Young man." 
 he added, addressing Hugh. " when you
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 327 
 
 preach, you must often tell the people that 
 the blood of Christ saved even old Von VI- 
 den. 
 
 After a moment's silence, the old man ad- 
 ded, " Lieutenant Ferrand, I should like to 
 hear you pray/' 
 
 All knelt down, while Ferrand, though, 
 at first, his voice trembled, from a feeling of 
 deep solemnity of this scene, prayed aloud, 
 with the inspired earnestness of a glowing 
 Christian faith, and Christian love. When 
 they arose, Yon Ulden's eyes were tranquilly 
 closed, and his hands lay, lightly folded be- 
 fore him. He had fallen asleep in Jesus. 
 
 All the people in the wrecker settlement 
 attended as mourners the funeral of the 
 old Commodore," whom they had <>i un- 
 treated with unfeeling contempt, and who 
 had repaid them with savage hatred, bH'mv 
 the Holy Spirit had performed the grwitci-t
 
 '->2^ WRECKERS URAND-CHILD. 
 
 of all miracles, that of creating anew his 
 heart. Every one looked with an increased 
 respect and tenderness upon the now 
 orphaned Marianna, yet they felt that she 
 was not, and never would be left really 
 alone. 
 
 Soon after Yon Uldeirs death, Lieutenant 
 Ferrand was restored to that position in the 
 "Navy from which he had been temporarily 
 suspended ; but whether on the ocean or 
 the land, his Christian graces always shone 
 so brightly as to make him a " living epistle, 
 known and read of all men." 
 
 Marianna had trained and guarded Bessie 
 with such zealous care, during her father's 
 imprisonment, that Lieutenant Ferrand re- 
 solved still to leave his child under the same 
 charge, and he provided every facility for 
 Bessie's receiving a first-class education, with-
 
 WRECKER'S GRAND-CHILD. 329 
 
 out being removed from the faithful and lov- 
 ing eyes of Marianna. 
 
 Hugh Ross left to finish his theological 
 studies, but he bore with him an earnest call 
 from the people of his native village, that 
 a minister might come to dispense to them 
 regularly the word of life, from the desk of 
 their beloved Sunday-school room. Their 
 wish was granted. A prosperous church now 
 gathers in its still increasing throng () f 
 worshippers, from that region where all 
 was ignorance, lawlessness, and spiritual 
 darkness, until the first Sabbath-school was 
 there commenced by the wrecker's grand- 
 child. 
 
 We have seen that through the instrumen- 
 tality of Marianna, great changes we in- 
 wrought in the community where she 
 lived. Yet, she had not displayed any very 
 extraordinary gifts of intellect. Her power 
 28*
 
 330 WEECKEB'S UJIAND-CHILD. 
 
 lav in an unwavering faith in God, an ardent 
 love for the souls of others, and in that en- 
 ergy and perseverance which sincere faith and 
 love naturally inspire. She had not aimed 
 to do any great or marvellous thing. All 
 that she did was quietly, earnestly, and 
 thoroughly, to improve every opportunity of 
 honoring Jesus, and of turning the attention 
 of others, not to herself, but to Hi in who is 
 " able to save even to the uttermost."'
 
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