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"Matt, Matt, sit you still; parson is going to read about God,"

"Goddard," said the clergyman, "this poor boy's eager attention ought to be a very affecting thing to you, and, indeed, to us all. If he to whom so little sense has been given desires to know all he can, and to hear more than he can understand of his Maker, surely we ought not to treat the subject with indifference, but rather with interest and reverence."

"Ay, ay, sir," said the old sailor, respectfully, but with no appearance of particular interest.

"Parson, read some more," said Matt.

"So I will, my boy," replied the clergyman; and partly commenting on the text, partly changing the words for others that he thought would be better understood, he began to relate the parable thus, --

"A great King said" -- and in speaking he pointed upward -- "A great King said, Bring my servants to me, and I will make them pay me all the pounds that they owe me.

"And they brought one servant that owed a thousand pence, a great many, a great many, a great many. And he had no pence to pay.

"And the King said, he shall be put in prison, and never come out any more till he has paid all this money."

He had got so far when he observed that tears were trickling down the boy's cheeks, and that his countenance showed great alarm. He stopped at once and patted him on the head, saying to his grandfather that he had not intended to distress him.

"Parson did not go for to make Matt cry," said the old man; meaning, did not do it on purpose.

But Matt was not to be comforted, he refused to listen; and presently he broke away from his friends and hobbled out on to the beach, where he threw himself down under the shelter of a fishing-boat, and continued to weep piteously; but whether he had been merely frightened by the solemn tone, whether his tears were shed from pity to the man who owed so much money, or whether, having been told that parson was going to read about God, he had, more by impression than by reason, set himself in the place of the debtor, -- it was quite beyond the power of any person to discover. But it was evident, as in former cases, that so much as he had understood had become perfectly real and true to him; and whether what had cost him so many tears was a right or a false idea, it would not easily be eradicated.

Poor Matt! they were obliged to leave him; and, as he refused to listen to his new friend when she spoke to him, all that could be done was to desire little Becca to sit by him and try to divert him from his grief.

The wind was rising when his friend reached her lodging, and by nightfall it blew a gale. She looked out and saw the driving clouds swept away from before the moon, leaving her alone in the bare heavens till again they were hurried up from the sea and piled before her face, blotting out the bright path she had laid across the waters. The thundering noise of the waves, as they flung themselves down hissing and foaming among the rocks, and the roaring of the wind, kept her waking, and trembling for the mariners out on that dangerous coast; and the thought of that poor afflicted boy was present to her mind; for she had been told that he was always restless in a storm, and that at night, while the family sat by the light of their one candle, he would stand, with his eager face pressed against the little casement, muttering that God was angry.

In the morning, gusts of wind and rain detained her in-doors; but toward afternoon, though the wind did not abate, it became clear overhead, and she put on her bonnet and prepared to go out. Sea-sand in heaps lay against the houses in the village street; it had been blown up during the night. The poor were busy collecting drift-wood from the shore, as well as the vast heaps of dulse and other weeds which the tide had brought in. She passed on till the cliffs afforded her some shelter, and then crept into a cave and rested awhile; for she intended to go on and see Matt that day, and discover, if possible, the cause of his trouble.

Though the wind was now beginning to abate, it was not very easy to stand against it, and the noise in the cave was like the sharp, incessant report of guns. But she rose and determined to go on being encouraged by the rapid subsiding of the wind, which seemed likely to go down in a deluge of rain; for black clouds were gathering over the troubled sea, which, excepting where a line of foam marked its breaking on the beach, was almost as black as themselves.

She pressed on; and shortly, as she had expected, she saw the motionless figure of the boy, -- his white clothing fluttering in the wind, his face intent on the gloomy sky.

She called to him several times, as she drew near, but the noise of the wind and waves drowned her voice. It was not till she came close and touched him that he looked at her. His countenance was full of awe and fear.

"What is Matt doing?" she asked in a soothing voice.

"Matt was talking to God," said the boy.