"'No.' I think it out. 'The only one necessary is the clergyman.'
"'Because he is the representative of—God?'
"'Yes,' I say in a minute or so, 'because he is there for—God.'
"'And yet God is everywhere? Knows all? Sees everything? Reads the inside of our hearts as easily as the clergyman reads our faces?'
"'That is what they say, Janssen. That is—what—we believe—'
"There is silence. Then she sinks to her knees in the sand in the moonlight.
"'Kneel down, McCarthy, and give me your hands.' I kneel and give her my hands without protest—her voice is so commanding, so sincere. And there is a strange thing between us now. All the time before if I touch her I feel strength flowing from me to her, but to-night when I hold her hands there is an even level.
"'If God wishes to hear us to-night, then we are married.'
"'But,' I say, 'Janssen, how do we know if He hears us, gives His consent?'
"Her eyes wander over the island, over the sea. She points suddenly to the lagoon.