"Be calm, my dear Miss Hamilton," was Roland's answer; "let us commit ourselves to God, there is safety no where else," and he knelt down in the midst of the anxious company, and, in earnest words of fervent trust, he called upon the God of the tempest, and still "Looking aloft," was calm. Presently, the ship gave a heavy lurch, and rolled over on her side; all were thrown violently down on one side of the cabin, but she did not right again. Edmund Norris ran to the ladies' cabin, for he felt the fearful danger. "We are going, Mr. Norris!" called Aunt Matilda; "we are sinking, I am sure! O; God, have mercy! have mercy!" "Not yet, my dear madam. The captain has ordered the main-mast sawed away, and then we shall probably right again." Roland, seated on the floor of the cabin, held Madeline in his arms. Not a word escaped her lips, for she was quietly reposing upon the promises of her Saviour. "We are in great danger, Madeline; are you resting upon the Saviour, dearest?" and Roland bent down in agony over the pale face that lay upon his bosom. "I know it, Roland, but perfect trust fills my heart; and if we go down in the deep water, it is with you, my dearest friend, and we shall enter Heaven together, and never go out again." It was an hour when the ceremonies of life were all forgotten, and Roland pressed a warm kiss upon the cold forehead and the pale lips that were whispering these precious words. In another minute the ship righted, and the cheers of the sailors resounded throughout the ship. "Let us thank God, Miss Hamilton," said Roland, as he turned to Aunt Matilda; "for I hope that the storm is subsiding," and he poured out, in their midst, an earnest thanksgiving for the deliverance which he trusted was near. Gradually the storm abated, and, towards morning, the waves sank to their ordinary bed, and the vessel went on her way. A temporary mast had to be erected, but, as they were nearing port, little anxiety was felt. Madeline blushed when she next met Roland, for she feared that, in the hour of danger, she had betrayed too much; but the sweet remembrance of his whispered words had banished all remaining doubts, and now she knew that Lavinia's tales about Helen Thornly must all be false; for Roland and honor were to her but one name. Edmund Norris had witnessed the scene in the storm, and understood now the silence of his friend whenever he had mentioned the name of Madeline Hamilton. They were now nearing port. In a few days, speeding up the bay, they were at home. Roland took lodgings for himself and aunt in New York, and Madeline prepared to return to Woodcliff. "You will go with us, Roland," said Madeline; "we must look to you to aid us in the last said offices for dear papa," and the young man accompanied the party. "You will come on to see us, Mrs. Douglass," was Madeline's last farewell.