"Still people are often better than their creed, you know."
"They are. Moreover, the Moslems' creed has in it some grand elements of truth. They acknowledge one God, and they believe in the duty and the efficacy of prayer. Oh yes,—and there are some good and generous Turks, who are as kind to us as they dare to be. I have known such. There was one, a Pasha, who tried to rule according to the avowed intentions of the Sultan, not according to his secret instructions. He was deprived of his office, and banished to a distant part of the empire. There a friend of mine, a missionary, visited him not long ago. At first my friend was disappointed, for though the Turk received him with all cordiality, he could not be got to talk. But when he returned the missionary's visit, and in his lodgings felt tolerably safe, he told him that every step he took was dogged, every word he said reported by the Sultan's spies: even in his most private chamber he never knew what safety meant; a spy might lurk behind the tapestry or outside the door. 'I count my life,' he said, 'by days and hours. Soon or late I am sure to be murdered.' If he is, I think He who said, 'Inasmuch as ye have done it unto the least of these,' will have something to say to him."
"Surely in this land," Jack observed, "'he that departeth from evil maketh himself a prey.' But what do you think of the outlook here just now, Pastor?"
"Do you want to hear the truth, Mr. Grayson?"
"Certainly."
"Then I think, in the words of your own poet, it is 'dark, dark, dark, unutterably dark,' and the darkness is over all the land."
"Darker than it has been yet? Is that possible?" Jack queried.
"Yes, what was meant before was oppression. What is meant now is, I fear, extermination."
"But," said Jack, raising his head suddenly, while a new light shone in his eyes, "there is God to be reckoned with. Does He mean it?"
"'His way is in the sea, His path is in the great waters, and His footsteps are not known.' Did you notice the name of my boy, whom you helped so kindly just now?"