And he did not comprehend that, in thus preferring an unseen duty because it was right to a seen pleasure because it was pleasant, he was consummating that sublime act of faith whose cry of victory is, "Thy will be done." Nanna did not suffer so much. In the first place, the pale, sad, almost despairing woman was glad and dared, in her despair, because the man she loved durst not sin, even for her. In the second, her battle was practically over. She had been in the van of it for months, and had come gradually to that state of submission which fears to resist, lest resistance might be found to be fighting against God. While David was yet in an agony of struggle with his love and his desires, his tender conscience and his dread of offending the Deity, Nanna had washed away her tears, and was strengthening her heart by saying continually, as the glancing needles glided to and fro: My God and Father, while I stray Far from my home, on life's rough way, Oh, teach me from my heart to say, "Thy will be done!" For some dauntless, primitive confidence in the love of the Maker of men is older than any creed. And there were yet hours when Nanna's soul outleaped its mortal shadow and had mystic flashes, native and sweet, beyond the reach of will and endeavor--intimations of serenities and compensations which would be neither small nor long delayed. X IN THE FOURTH WATCH Holding despair at bay, David quickly made his preparations for an extended absence. He hired his boat and lines to Groat's sons, and on the morning of the second day, after bidding Nanna farewell, he went to Minister Campbell's to complete his arrangements. The minister was writing his sermon, and he was not pleased at the interruption; but when he saw David's face, the shadow of annoyance on his own passed away like a thought. He dropped his pen, and turned in his chair so as to see the young man fairly, and then he asked: "What is wrong, David?" "I am all at sea, minister, drifting--drifting--" "Where's your anchor, David? Can't you steady yourself on God? Can't you make harbor someway?" David shook his head sadly. "Then up sail and out to sea, and face the storm. What quarter is it from?" "It comes from a woman." "Ah, David, that is bad to buffet. I have been through it. It was that storm which brought me here. I know all about it." [Illustration: GROAT.] "Please, minister, I think not. It is Nanna Sinclair." "I thought so. You love her, David?" "Better than my life." "And she does not love you?" "She loves me as I love her." "Then what is there to make you miserable? In a few months, David, you will marry her and be happy." "Nanna will not marry me in a few months--she will not marry me at all." "Nanna ought not to trouble a good man with such threats. Of course she will marry. Why not?"