British -- Oceania -- Fiction; Missionaries -- Fiction
"Never!" murmured Jean, wide-eyed and breathless, lest the smallest
display of the ordinary functions of living should resolve into its
natural elements the ethereal vision before them.
And yet it was only a tiny South Sea atoll, one of the myriad gleaming
gems that deck the bosom of the great southern ocean in clusters, and
strings, and ropes, and solitaires, from the Pelews to Pitcairn, of
visible beauty indescribable, and in some cases possessed of natural
latent treacherousness hardly second thereto.
It was still dusky twilight when they three climbed the companion, to
taste the sweet of the dawn and watch the perpetual wonder of the
coming day. They had learned already to rejoice in the dawnings as the
purest and fullest revelations of Nature's exuberant largesse. The
sunsets were gorgeous and magnificent beyond compare, but they had in
them the elements of dissolution and decay, whereas the pure pearl
splendours of the dawn sang full and true of new birth, new hopes, and
the deep springs of life and joy.
Anxious as he was to get to his life's work, and grudging every moment
and every league that lay between it and him, Blair had still felt it a
duty to afford Jean every possible enjoyment of travel which the voyage
could offer her. She was giving up much, she was going into outer
exile for his sake; the chance might never come again. She should see
all that was possible before the fringes fell behind them. And so they
had come by way of Suez, and touched at Bombay and Ceylon, and then
away to Australia and New Zealand, and then a great stretch round the
outer skirts of the Australs and Paumotus, with only such stoppages as
were absolutely necessary, and then straight for the work that awaited
them.
"The rest of the Islands we can take by degrees," he said. "They will
be our holiday grounds in the years to come. But now I am anxious to
know what is going on in the Dark Islands. So very much may be
happening behind that black curtain."
They were a gay and gallant company on board, not a long face among
them. They were going to whatever might await them of strenuous life
and heroic endeavour. No single one of them but was ready to lay down
his or her life in the cause that lay so close to their hearts, and
they found therein reason, not for doubts or fears, but wholly of
exaltation. It was a mighty work, and they rejoiced in being chosen
for it.
Blair had selected for his fellow-workers, from among a host of
applicants, two young fellows whose qualifications satisfied him in
every respect, and whose special training supplemented the deficiencies
in his own. He is the wisest man who best knows what he knows least.
The man who knows everything is generally useless at a pinch.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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