It was in vain that Blair tried to persuade Derry Duck to see his mother, and accept her thanks for his kindness to her wounded boy. Derry declared that he would hear no thanks, the odds were all on the other side. And as for sitting down in a Christian woman's parlor, and making himself easy there, he wasn't fit for that. A forgiven sinner he believed he was, and could bow in the house of God with his fellow-men; but he was a beginner in the ways of godliness, too much tainted with his miserable past to be right company for those who had never gone so far astray. Besides, he pleaded, he had his little flower to see, in her own little nook. It would be a shame to him to set his foot on any other threshold before he had spoken to her. To her his first spare hours belonged.

Derry returned from his visit to his child with his heart more than ever full of love to his darling. She had received his letter, and rejoiced over it with great joy, declaring that not a treasure she possessed was so precious. Derry had allowed himself but the usual short interview, ever trembling lest he should mar her delight in her father by some knowledge of the wild life he had led. Yet, when he laid his hand on her head at parting, he could not resist speaking the fervent "God bless you, darling," which stirred at his heart.

She had clasped and kissed his hand with a sudden gladness, as if such words from him were both a joy and a surprise. He waited for no questions, but hurried away.

"When the war is over, you will come home and settle down with your little housekeeper, and let her take care of you. How glad that will make her," said Blair persuasively.

"I shall never be fit company for her," said Derry firmly; "I know it, my boy. True, I'm a changed man. I trust I'm forgiven for the sake of the Crucified. But I've a pit within that needs purging thrice over. A man like me is not made into a saint in a minute, though he may read his pardon clear. 'Following hard after,' shall be my motto; 'following on to know the Lord.' I'm not the one to sit down at the chimney-side with a creature like her. No, Blair, I tell you no. Look here, my boy. Here's my path of duty. I've a God to glorify, I've a country to serve. Rough sailors wont think of my ways as she would. If I'm like a rock in what I know is right, and God will help me, I can do 'em good. I can set up the right banner among 'em. I can make the forecastle praise the great and holy name. It is for this I mean to work. It is for this I mean to be a sailor now. There's not a port I've ever set foot in, but I've shamed a Christian land there. I mean to put in to every port where I've showed my face, and let them see I've changed my colors. Where I've done evil, there I mean to try to do good. I can't wipe out bygones. They are written in the book up there. But there's One in white robes will stand for me before his Father's throne. I'll work for Him while there's life in me; and when I die, I hope it will be giving praise and glory to his name. I want to do my country credit too. It's no shining thing, to get in the papers, that I expect to do; but just a patient serving God, that brings honor to the land where a man was born. You will pray for me, I know, when I'm off on the water; and if I die—your mother knows the name—she'll go to my little darling, and tell her how her father loved her, and hopes to live with her in the kingdom of heaven. I shall be fit to sit down with her at that marriage-feast. I shall have on the 'white robes,' and poor Derry Duck will have a 'new name,' by which the angels will call him, and his little darling will not blush to hear it. I shall live with her there." Derry dashed the tears from his eyes as he spoke, but he firmly repeated, "Here, I must labor alone, and struggle to grow like the Master. There, none shall lay any thing to the charge of God's elect; and I and my pretty one will join with her mother in singing round the throne. Good-by, my boy. God bless you. You have sent out a Christian sailor to work for him on the seas. You have sent out a lover of his country to strive to do her honor in his closet on his knees, at his duty in the fight, and in his hammock when they drop him into the deep sea."

Derry wrung the hand of the young patriot, and then moved away with quick uncertain steps. A lonely man, yet not alone, there was a comfort and joy in the rough sailor's heart. His life of labor was to be a glad voyage to a better country, whose harbor lights would be ever leading him onward, and whose shining shore would ever glisten for him in the certain future beyond the grave.

The young patriot had indeed been blessed in winning such a devoted servant to the Master's cause, and such a Christian sailor to maintain the honor of his native land.

There was more such work for Blair Robertson, and for it he steadily labored.

Peace came with its illuminations and festivities. The sword was laid aside on sea and land, yet Blair might still be serving the country he so dearly loved. His example, his fireside talk, and his glowing words in the assemblies of his people, might ever cast their weight in the right balance. The outcasts and the immigrant were still to be so trained and ennobled as to make them fit citizens of our free and happy land. Above all, by his prayers and his holy living, he might call down on his home and country such a blessing as ever encompasses the dwelling of him who feareth the Lord.

To be such a patriot was the aim of Blair Robertson. Would that there were many so to live and labor. Then might we be sure of victory over all our enemies, and of the abounding blessings of lasting peace.