Before they were all safely housed, the wind had come down upon them and was blowing almost a gale.  It was with considerable difficulty the captain succeeded in getting them all up the long steep flights of stairs by which they must reach the top of the cliff.

About the time they started for the house the party on the veranda became aware that a storm was rising.

Zoe saw it first, and dropped her work in her lap with the cry, “Oh, I knew it would be so!  I just knew it!  A dreadful storm is coming, and the Edna will be wrecked, and Edward will drown.  I shall never see him again!”

The others were too much startled and alarmed at the moment to notice her wild words or make any reply.  They all rose and hurried into the house, and Mr. Dinsmore began closing windows and doors.

“The children, papa!” cried Elsie; “they must be down on the beach, and—­”

“The captain is with them, and I will go to their assistance,” he replied, before she could finish her sentence.

He rushed out as he spoke, to return the next moment with Walter in his arms and the rest closely following.

“These are all safe, and for the others I must trust the Lord,” Elsie said softly to herself as her father set Walter down, and she drew the child to her side.

But her cheek was very pale, and her lips trembled as she pressed them to the little fellow’s forehead.

He looked up wonderingly.  “Mamma, what is the matter?  You’re not afraid of wind and thunder?”

“No, dear; but I fear for your brothers out on this stormy sea,” she whispered in his ear.  “Pray for them, darling, that if God will, they may reach home in safety.”

“Yes, mamma, I will; and I believe He’ll bring them.  Is it ’cause Ned’s in the ship Zoe’s crying so?”

“Yes; I must try to comfort her.”  And putting him gently aside, Elsie went to her young daughter-in-law, who had thrown herself upon a couch, and with her head pillowed on its arm, her face hidden in her hands, was weeping and sobbing as if her heart would break.

“Zoe, love,” Elsie said, kneeling at her side and putting her arms about her, “do not despair.  ’Behold, the Lord’s hand is not shortened that it cannot save; neither His ear heavy that it cannot hear.’”

“No, but—­He does let people drown; and oh, I can never live without my husband!”

“Dear child, there is no need to consider that question till it is forced upon you.  Try, dear one, to let that alone, and rest in the promise, ‘As thy days, so shall thy strength be.’”

The captain had drawn near, and was standing close beside them.

“Mother has given you the best of advice, my little sister,” he said, in his kind, cheery way; “and for your further comfort let me say that it is altogether likely the Edna is safe in harbor somewhere.  I think they probably perceived the approach of the storm in season to be warned not to put out to sea till it should be over.”