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He was up in the gray awakening city, walking in the park, listening to the birds near by and the rumbling beginnings of London life. After breakfast, he went again to the Church office. "You must excuse me for thus being such a bother," he explained to Elder Malby, "but but I can't keep away." "I hope you never will," replied the elder, encouragingly.
When Malby was gone, Desmond sallied forth, marched quietly south to Youghal where there was an English colony, sacked it, put the English to the sword, and burnt the place. Thence, with increasing musters, he marched upon Cork, which however he abstained from attacking.
"Father," said Lucy, "I had intended to introduce you to Elder Malby, but I wanted you to hear, unprejudiced, what he had to say. What he has been teaching is 'Mormonism, and you'll admit now that it is not at all bad. You never would listen nor read." "Lucy that will do. Good evening, gentlemen. Come Lucy." Later that same evening when most of the passengers had retired, the Rev. Mr.
Elston was a widower living in a spot of green called Piney Ridge Cottage amid the sage-brush desert, living there alone with his daughter Julia. And this Julia well Do you see any porpoises, Brother Malby?" "Not yet. Go on." "Mr. Elston is a fine, good-hearted man, a gentleman in very deed. He soon found out who I was and invited me to his home. Julia was mistress there.
Chester was visibly affected as he related what he had seen. At the conclusion of his story he bowed his face into his hands for a moment. Then he looked into the Elder's face with a smile. "Well, it's too bad, too bad," said George Malby. "Do you think so?" "Well why isn't it a terrible thing to die like that?" "I hope not," replied Chester.
When the good-natured English housekeeper announced that supper was ready, it seemed impossible to do otherwise than to follow her and Elder Malby down to the large basement room. In fact, Lucy, without any ifs or ands took her father's arm and led him along. Uncle Gilbert thought he had never seen her in such a bold frame of mind.
Chester and his friends followed. Quite a congregation had gathered. Two large pillows had been covered with a Union Jack to serve as a pulpit. A ship's officer then read the form prescribed for services on ship-board from the Church of England prayer book. It was all very dry and uninteresting, "Verily a form of godliness" and a lot of "vain repetition," said Elder Malby.
From the upper deck Chester and Elder Malby looked out on the sublime spectacle. Like great, green, white-crested hills, the waves raced along the vast expanse. Towards the afternoon the ship and the wind had shifted their course so that the waves dashed with thunderous roar against the iron sides of the vessel which only heaved and dipped and went steadily on its way.
The night was growing late; but there was no sleep for Chester. Many of the passengers, having been awakened by the stopping of the ship, were up, hurriedly dressed, and enquiring what the trouble was. Chester met Elder Malby in the companion-way. "What's the matter?" asked the Elder. "A man has been lost at sea," replied the other. "Come into the saloon, and I'll tell you about it."
"Another day we'll see Newsham Park, and the country around Knotty Ash way. Then again, there is some beautiful country up the Mersey and across to Birkenhead." The visitor was grateful for these offers. That evening Chester addressed some post-cards to his few friends in Chicago, one to Hugh Elston, one to Elder Malby in London, and one to Lucy May Strong, Kildare Villa, Cork, Ireland.
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