“A man boasts of drink, of women, of a blow that is struck; but he does not boast of what you call a good deed. He advertises his crimes; he hides his virtues. Why?”
“Such a man does wrong,” said the missionary. “He might better boast of his good deeds. Christ said: ‘I am the son of God.’ No mightier boast was ever uttered.”
“Was it true?” Black Pawl asked, sharply.
“All men are God’s sons—just as all men are God,” the missionary explained.
The Captain nodded thoughtfully. “Then why not let it go at that?” he asked. “Why all this talk of heaven? Be good, and you will twingle the heavenly harps; be bad, and you will roast in hell. That’s the way to convert a coward; but it’s only a challenge to a strong man.”
“Do you believe in the unpardonable sin?” the other countered.
Black Pawl’s eyes clouded. “Yes,” he confessed.
“Ah!” the missionary murmured half to himself. “I have been wondering why you were unhappy.”
The Captain’s face hardened at that. “The unhappy man is a coward,” he parried.
“Then you are a coward, my friend.”