CHAPTER X

OVERTAKEN BY THE TIDE

WHEN the next day came, Mr. Hollys was prevented from carrying out his intention of calling on his old friend Mrs. Everard, and asking her to aid him to find a governess for Beryl. But he did not forget the request which Beryl's ill-written letter had conveyed to him, and being in the city that day, he made his way to Paternoster Row, and there purchased some of the best Scripture pictures that he could see amongst the many tempting publications displayed in the windows of that narrow but important street. He ordered the pictures to be sent direct to his home at Egloshayle, and to the children's delight the packet arrived there by post the very next day.

With the greatest satisfaction, Coral and Beryl unrolled the pretty coloured prints.

They suited Beryl's purpose admirably, and were far larger and prettier ones than she had expected to get. There was a beautiful picture of the Good Shepherd carrying a lamb in His arms; a picture of the child Jesus talking to the doctors in the temple; another showing the tender Saviour taking the little ones in His arms, whilst their mothers stood watching Him with looks of eager love; and many others, all representing incidents of our Lord's life.

"There is no picture of Joseph after all," said Beryl, when she had examined the whole collection. "I wish there had been; but these all seem to be taken from the New Testament."

"I should think they would rather see pictures about Jesus than about Joseph," said Coral.

"Why?" asked Beryl quickly.

"I don't know; but I think I would rather," said Coral. "Don't you like that picture of the Good Shepherd, Beryl? He looks so kind and good."

"Yes, it is a beautiful face," said Beryl. "But I suppose the face of Jesus was really much more beautiful than that."

"But is not this just like it?" asked Coral in surprise.

"Why, no, Coral, you must know better than that. Don't you remember that Mr. Gilbank said it was impossible for any one to make a true likeness of the Lord Jesus? He said he had seen many lovely pictures of Christ, but never one in which he did not feel that there was something wanting."

Coral shook her head. She did not remember it. Mr. Gilbank's words had not made so deep an impression on her mind as on Beryl's.

"Perhaps it is better the pictures should be all about Jesus," said Beryl, thoughtfully. "The children ought to learn about Jesus rather than Joseph; for Jesus is their Saviour, not Joseph. Still it is very nice about the coat of many colours, and I should like to have seen a picture of it. I like that picture of Jesus saying, 'Suffer little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not.' We must tell them about that, Coral. And Mr. Gilbank said that Jesus was just the same still. Though we cannot see Him, nor hear Him, His arms are opened wide to receive little children, and He says to them, 'Come unto Me.' Oh, I wish I could tell them just what Mr. Gilbank said. I do hope they will be quiet and good next Sunday."

"They will be sure to like the pictures," said Cora hopefully.

Beryl was looking forward with some tremor to her next attempt at keeping a Sunday school. She had so set her heart upon success, that the thought of disappointment was most painful to her. Many a childish petition for Divine help went up from the depths of her heart. She prayed that the weather might be fine, that the children might be good and orderly, and that she might be able to tell them in words they could understand about the loving Saviour whose arms were opened to receive them.

When Sunday afternoon came, it was in a very humble mood that Beryl went down to the beach to meet the children she had undertaken to teach.

The day was fine, and there was no falling off in the attendance of the scholars. Indeed, it seemed to Beryl that there were more present than on the previous Sunday. Beryl had very wisely decided to show them only one picture on each occasion, for she judged that the sight of many at a time might distract their attention from her words, and make them more unruly than ever. The picture she had chosen to show them to-day was that of Christ blessing the children.

There was much confusion and jostling in the class when Beryl unrolled the picture and laid it upon the flat rock. The little ones pressed round her, eager for the pretty sight; and the elder ones pushed their way into the cave, determined to see the object which was exciting such cries of admiration.

For a few moments, Beryl found it impossible to preserve order. She was obliged to rescue the picture from the rude and dirty hands that were laid upon it, and, holding it high above her head, declare that if they did not instantly sit down, and become quiet, no one should look at it again. The elder children, quite as eager as the little ones to see the picture, supported the teacher's authority, and by shakes, and pushes, and many an angry word, reduced their young brothers and sisters to submission.

Then Beryl arranged that only three children at a time should enter the cave and look at the picture. This plan answered admirably, and each child had a good look at the picture without any confusion or uproar. The exhibition of the picture occupied some time. When they had thus examined it, Beryl contrived by means of some pebbles to prop the picture up against the wall of the cave, so that all could glance at it.

Then, sitting down, she began to tell the children in simple, childish words, how the Jewish mothers had ventured to bring their little ones to Jesus, and how the disciples had tried to drive them back, but Jesus had stretched forth His arms to them in love, and said, "'Suffer little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not, for of such is the kingdom of heaven.'"

Beryl's simple talk was far more effectual than her reading had been. Her quick imagination gave many a graphic touch to the narrative, and as she pointed every now and then to the picture, and drew her listeners' attention to its various details, there was quietness and order in the class.

After awhile, of course, they grew restless and began to fidget, and then Beryl knew that she had said enough. She now tried to teach the children the first verse of "When mothers of Salem," and actually a few little ears caught the words and remembered them, and, led by Coral and Beryl, the scholars sang the verse in a queer, discordant fashion.

Beryl was well pleased with the success of her endeavour this afternoon. Her heart felt light and happy as, rolling up the picture, she told the children it was time for them to go home, reminding them, however, that she should hope to see them again on the next Sunday.

"Oh, Beryl, how nice it has been!" cried Coral, as the last child toddled away, and they were left alone. "Weren't they good to-day? That picture was splendid."

"Yes, how pleased they were with it!" said Beryl, her face aglow with delight. "I was dreadfully afraid they would tear it at first; but they were very good afterwards. And I really believe they understood what I said."

"And didn't they sing the hymn well!" said Coral.

The hearts of the young teachers were glad and thankful as they went home. What a joyful thing life seemed that summer afternoon! The radiant sunshine, the shining waves, the bright sky, all spoke to them of love and joy. Even for these children, life was becoming a grander, more blessed thing, now that they were learning to care for the good of others.

Beryl did not always find her scholars so attentive as they had been on this occasion. As the pictures lost their novelty, she found them more troublesome, and often had her patience severely tried. But she persevered in spite of every difficulty, and did her utmost to make her class pleasant to the little ones.

Sometimes she felt discouraged, and fancied that her efforts were all in vain; but in this she was mistaken. The scholars, ignorant and untaught though they were, were beginning to know something of a Saviour's love, and fragments of Beryl's teaching were repeated by childish lips in homes where hitherto the name of God had been unheard save in blasphemous utterance. Truths grasped by the mind in childhood are not easily forgotten, and some of Beryl's little scholars remembered to the end of life what she told them of the love of the Son of God.

She was but a child herself, much too young, many would have thought, to be a teacher; but she was growing in the knowledge of the Lord Jesus whilst she was trying to teach others about him. Coral and Beryl had no one to teach them now Mr. Gilbank was gone; but the Lord Himself was their teacher; and as they read the Bible, and talked to each other of its words, His Spirit made things plain to their childish understanding. They found no difficulties, and fell upon no stumbling-blocks, for truths that are hidden from the wise and prudent were revealed to these babes in the faith.

Lucy made no enquiries as to the manner in which her young ladies spent their Sunday afternoons. She saw them go away with their books, and felt relieved to think that they did not require her attendance, but left her free to spend the time as she liked. She did not think that her young charges were likely to get into any danger, for Miss Beryl was well acquainted with the shore, and generally knew the hour at which the tide would turn; indeed, Miss Beryl was such a clever, shrewd little person, that it would have been absurd to feel anxious about her when out of sight.

Beryl had hitherto been careful to avoid being overtaken by the tide, which, when high, filled the cave in which she held her class.

During the few weeks since she began to keep a "Sunday school," the changes of the tide had suited her convenience tolerably well. But familiarity with danger sometimes engenders carelessness, and at last Beryl was thus betrayed.

One Sunday afternoon, when the class had been exceedingly interesting, and her scholars had said their hymns in the most satisfactory manner, she lingered in the cave talking it all over with Coral, long after the little ones had gone away, quite forgetful of the fact that the tide had been on the turn when they came down to the beach, and was now coming in fast. The cave in which the children stood was a large one, running far back under the cliff. Its extreme end was lost in darkness; but the subdued light sufficed to show a hollow opening at one side of the cave, just above a shelf of rock which ran around it, about four feet from the bottom.

"Coral," said Beryl, seized with a new idea, "do you see that hole in the side of the rock? Let's have a look at it; I fancy it would do nicely for a little cupboard to put our hymn-books in. It is such a bother having to carry them home every time."

They ran to the spot; but Beryl found that the opening was too high up to make a convenient cupboard. It was impossible for her standing on the ground to reach it, and she was planning how she should climb to it, when some words of Coral's startled her with a sudden reminder of her imprudence in lingering so long in the cave.

"Wouldn't the hymn-books get wet, Beryl?" she asked. "I thought this cave was full of water at high tide."

"So it is. Oh, Coral! And it must be almost high tide now. What are we thinking of to stay here so long? Oh, come quickly!"

As she spoke, Beryl darted towards the mouth of the cave; but alas, the warning was too late! At that very moment there was a roar, a rush, a sudden darkening of the light, as a huge wave burst into the cave and swept almost to the children's feet, ere it receded, to be followed by another as mighty.

Coral and Beryl saw their peril at the same instant, and a cry of horror broke from their lips.

"Oh, we shall be drowned! We shall be drowned!" was all Beryl could say. "There is no hope for us; none whatever. The cave will be full in five minutes, and no one knows where we are!"