"It is the will of Heaven, and you must submit to it patiently,"
continued she.
"But so cruel, so treacherous!" replied I, looking at the fast-receding
boat.
"I grant, most cruel, and most treacherous; but we must leave them to
the judgment of God. What can they expect from Him in the way of mercy
when they have shown none? I tell you candidly, that I think we are
better in our present forlorn state upon this rock, than if in that
boat. They have taken with them the seeds of discord, of recklessness,
and intemperance, in an attempt which requires the greatest prudence,
calmness, and unanimity, and I fear there is little chance of their ever
being rescued from their dangerous position. It is my opinion, and I
thought so when I first knew they had found the cask, that liquor would
prove their ruin, and I say again, that boat will never arrive at its
destination, and they will all perish miserably. It has pleased God
that they should leave us here, and depend upon it, it has been so
decided for the best."
"But," replied I, looking again at the boat, "I was tired of being
here--I was so anxious to get off--and now to be left! And they have
taken all our provisions, everything, even the fish in the pool. We
shall starve."
"I hope not," replied she, "and I think not; but we must exert
ourselves, and trust to Heaven."
But I could not heed her--my heart was bursting. I sobbed, as I sat
with my hands covering up my face.
"All gone;" cried I. "No one left but you and I."
"Yes," replied she, "one more."
"Who?" cried I, looking up.
"God!--who is with us always."