The children sat very silent during the space of time that elapsed before this turn should occur. David’s face had caught some of the awe from Bertie’s, and he felt as if an impending crisis were approaching with the advancing waves. At length David said, in a low voice,— “It be turning now.” And Bertie suddenly rose and knelt down, baring his head as he did so, whilst David copied every movement and clasped his hands together, as he saw his little companion do. Side by side upon the warm sand the two children knelt for many long minutes. A look of awe was upon Bertie’s face. He felt, as he saw the advancing waves gradually begin to retire, as if the great God of heaven were very near to them, looking down from His holy place, bidding the great ocean keep its appointed limits. Surely He must see the two little children kneeling before Him; and surely He would listen to their prayers. Bertie’s prayer took no articulate form. He could not put into words the strange longing that was in his mind—a longing to be remembered, helped, comforted—not to be left so utterly alone. It was more a cry than a prayer that arose from his heart, and yet he felt that he had been heard. He knelt for many minutes beside the receding waves, and when he rose his face wore a look of calmness and serenity very different from its troubled expression half an hour before. “David,” he said, “I do think God was very near us then. I think He heard.” “Ay, ay, He’d be sure to hear thee. What did thee say?” “I don’t quite know,” answered Bertie, gravely; “but I’m sure God understood.” “I be sure too,” returned David, with absolute confidence. “I should like to come here every day when the tide turns,” said Bertie. “I wish thee would. I’d always be here too, I would.” Bertie pondered for a few moments. “I’ll come as often as I can,” he said; “but I can’t be sure of coming every day at the right time. If I’m not here, David, will you do just as we did alone, and ask Him not to forget us ever, and to let me find out some day the things I can’t remember? I don’t want to be impatient; I know He knows best; but I do want to remember some day.” “And I’m sure He’ll help thee some day,” answered David, with some fervor. “I’ll ask Him every day for thee, that I will; and He’ll be sure to answer when He’s ready. All good folks say so, and they must know best. I’ll come here every day when the tide turns, and then He’s sure to see me.”