“The minister came to me with the order, and I could not win by it and face God and man again.”
“What said he? O David! David!”
“He said, ‘David Borson, there are four men ill with typhus this morning on the Sea Rover. The one man yet unstricken is quite broken down with fright and fatigue. The doctor says some one ought to go there. What do you think?’ And I said, ‘Minister, do you mean me?’ And he smiled a bit and answered, ‘I thought you would know your duty, David.’”
“But why your duty, David? Surely Vala was dearer and nearer.”
“The minister said, ‘You are a lone man, David, and you fear God; so, then, you need not fear the fever.’”
“And he knew that you hated Sinclair! Knew that Sinclair had come to my house with the fever on him–knew that he had lifted my poor bairn, only that he might give her the death-kiss!”
“No, no! How could any father, any man, be as bad as that, Nanna?”
“You know not how bad the devil can make a man when he enters into him. And how could the minister send you such a hard road?”
“It was made easy to me; it was indeed, Nanna. The sensible presence of God, and the shining of his face on me, though only for a moment, made me willing to give up all my anger and all my revenge, and wait on my enemy, and do what I could for him to the last moment.”
“And Vala? How could you forget her?”