"You're all for fighting, I see," chimed in soft-eyed Molly; "I wonder what little Jim would like to be, if he was awake." "I know what battles _I_ would like to see him fighting," said Mrs Thorogood. "Why," exclaimed the blacksmith in surprise, "I thought you hated fighting of all kinds?" "No, not all kinds. I should like to see little Jim fighting the battle of the Prince of Peace." Of course there was a clamorous questioning as to what that meant, but we must not devote space to this subject. Neither can we afford to follow the history of each member of this family step by step. We will grow them up at once, and tell you what came of all their enthusiastic desires and lofty aspirations in succeeding chapters. Only thus much will we say in conclusion; when the blacksmith said it was time to be off to bed that night, the children rose _at once_; gave and received a hearty kiss all round, and went off to "turn in," as sailors express it, "with a will." They had learned _obedience_--the most difficult lesson that man has got to learn--the lesson which few learn thoroughly, and which our Lord sets us as a test of our loyalty to Himself, when He says says,--"If ye love Me, keep My commandments." CHAPTER TWO. It was what sailors call a "dirty night." When you looked out upon the sea, it seemed as if there were nothing there but horrible darkness. If you went down to the beach, however,--close under the fishing village of Sunland--you found that there was just enough of light to make the darkness visible. Tremendous waves came rolling madly into the bay, their white crests gleaming against the black sky until they came down like thunder on the sand. The wind roared and whistled over the bay, cutting off the foam-tops of the billows, and hurling them against the neighbouring cliffs. Mingled rain and hail filled the shrieking blast, and horrid uproar seemed to revel everywhere. "God have mercy on those at sea," was uttered by many a lip that night. It was a most suitable prayer! Some there were, doubtless, who uttered it with a little shudder as they turned in their beds, but said and did nothing more. Others there were, weak in body perhaps, but strong in spirit, who reflected, with some degree of comfort, that they had given of their gold to help those whose business it is to help the perishing. And there were others who had little gold to give, but who gladly gave their strong, stalwart bodies, and risked their precious lives to save the perishing. Many of these last were on the beach at Sunland that night, with oilskin coats and caps, cowering in the lee of boats and rocks, or leaning against the furious gale as they tried to gaze out to sea through the blinding sleet and spray.