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A mile away, motionless upon the glassy waters of the harbour, lay the schooner, with her boat astern, and every now and then Blount would take a look at her through his glass. "I can't see a soul on deck," he said to Mr. Deighton. "I heard that Peter and Burrowes went off this morning with the captain, all pretty well drunk. Would to God I knew what is best to do!
"Stay here and pray if you like and get your throat cut In ten in five minutes more, every native except Banderah will be here ready to burn and murder. I tell you, man, that our only chance of safety is to reach my house first, and then the schooner. Come, Mrs. Deighton. For God's sake, come!" Pushing past the missionary, he seized Mrs. Deighton by the hand and descended the steps.
Deighton, he had agreed to put down the last remnants of cannibalism which had lingered among the coast tribes on the island down to the time of this story. And although the older men, and some of the priests of the heathen faith, had struggled against his drastic legislation, they finally gave in when Mr.
For some ten minutes or so he remained, speaking only when he was spoken to; and then he rose, and nodding a cool "good-day" to the handsome Mr. de Vere and the two traders, he strode to the door and walked out. Before he was half-way from Burrowes' house to the mission station, he was overtaken by the Rev. Mr. Deighton.
In other words, Banderah, although by no means averse to the poorer natives of the island adopting Christianity in a very free and modified form, and contributing a certain amount of their possessions to the missionary cause, was yet a heathen, and intended to remain one. For Mr. Deighton he had conceived a personal liking, mingled with a wondering and contemptuous pity.
Deighton, with an inward groan, saw among them some of his pet converts, stark naked and armed with spears and clubs. Leaping and dancing with mad gyrations, and uttering curious grunting sounds as their feet struck the ground, the devil-doctors at last came within a few feet of the gate in the trader's fence.
And that brings me to what I was going to say. I'm desperately hard up for money, and so I've been collecting my poems weeding them well, you know going over them quite critically, in fact; and I want to know if you think Deighton would publish them. You've a name in Cambridge, you know; and I daresay he would look at them if you offered them to him.
'Good man! shouted Deighton of the Horse Battery through the mist. 'Whar you raise dat tonga? I'm coming with you. Ow! But I've a head and a half. I didn't sit out all night. They say the Battery's awful bad, and he hummed dolorously, Leave the what at the what's-its-name, Leave the flock without shelter, Leave the corpse uninterred, Leave the bride at the altar! 'My faith!
He would not have changed places with Deighton of the Horse Battery, whirling by in a pillar of cloud to a chorus of "Strong right!
As the clamour increased, the Rev. Wilfrid Deighton opened the door of his study and stepped out upon the shady verandah of the mission house, which stood upon a gentle, palm-covered rise about five hundred yards from the thickly clustering houses of the native village. He was a tall, thin man with a scanty brown beard, and his face wore a wearied, anxious expression.
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