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Updated: July 4, 2025
He faced the window, and for a space he did not see. Then with pencil and paper he wrote again to Fingers. It was late in the afternoon before Father Layonne returned with an answer. Again it was verbal. Fingers had read his note and had burned it with a match. He was particular that the last scrap of it was turned into ash, the missioner said.
Father John, on that stormy night when he fled north, had promised to care for Nada, and in silence he breathed a prayer that the Missioner had saved her from the red death that had swept like an avalanche upon them. He told himself it must be so. He cried out the words aloud, and Peter heard him, and followed closer, so that his head touched his master's leg as he walked. But the fear was there.
Land and materials for the church were provided by the Clan or the Clan's head, and lands for support of the missioner or of the missionary community were allotted just as they had been previously allotted to the pagan priesthood; in fact there can be but little doubt that the lands of the pagan priests became in many cases the endowment of the Christian establishment.
Kyle was frankly frightened by the Archdeacon, and a very good thing too! Might he long remain so! Lastly there was Foster, the Diocesan Missioner. Let it be said at once that the Archdeacon hated Foster. Foster had been a thorn in the Archdeacon's side ever since his arrival in Polchester a thin, shambly-kneed, untidy, pale-faced prig, that was what Foster was!
"There is Tavish's cabin. Come. We will see." Mukoki remained with the team. They could hear the dogs whining as they advanced. The cabin took shape in their faces grotesque, dark, lifeless. It was a foreboding thing, that cabin. He remembered in a flash all that the Missioner had told him about Tavish. His pulse was beating swiftly.
"I can afford it. I fancy that I shall take a great pleasure in it, and that occasionally I shall return into this country to make a visit." It was the first time that he had spoken as though he would not remain with the Missioner indefinitely. But the conviction that the time was not far away when he would be leaving him had been growing within him steadily. He kept it to himself.
With the little missioner he had spent many an evening, exchanging in mutual confidence the strange and mysterious happenings of the deep forests, and of the great north beyond the forests. O'Connor's friendship was a friendship bred of the brotherhood of the trails.
There was death in each of the two grips; but the man's was the stronger, and his neck was larger and tougher, so that after a time he staggered to his knees and then to his feet, while Jan lay upon his back, his face and hair red with blood, his eyes wide open and with a lifeless glare in them. The missioner looked down upon his victim in horror.
"Believe in him always, my Iowaka, and Jean de Gravois will cut the throat of any missioner who says you will not go to Paradise! But this other. You are sure that you would break oath for none but me?" "And the children. They are a part of you, Jean." A fierce snarling and barking of dogs brought Gravois to the door. They could hear Croisset's raucous voice and the loud cracking of his big whip.
He departs from Meaco to return to Amanguchi. Being returned to Amanguchi, he gains an audience of the king. He obtains permission to preach. He is visited by great multitudes. The qualities which he thinks requisite in a missioner to Japan. He answers many men with one only word. He preaches in Amanguchi. He speaks the Chinese language without learning it. The fruit of his preaching.
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