“It is a natural and proper human need, that desire to be assured of ‘the absolution and remission of sins.’ But after all you are as well qualified as I am to pronounce it.”
“Edmund will want to hear it from you,” I insisted.
“Well, I shall be glad to see him. You must let me know when he comes. I should like a long evening with both of you. If Welfare can be there as well, so much the better. I shall want to explain to your brother about this Colonial Office job, which I hope he will accept. They want a man to organise and manage a small steamboat service on Lake Nyassa. It is a good climate, and much of the work will be congenial to your brother. They have at present nobody else especially qualified. I think if your brother asked for Welfare as an assistant there would be no difficulty about arranging that, and he would be useful on the commercial side.”
“My dear bishop,” I exclaimed, “it is ideal! How can I or Edmund thank you?”
“You know there is no need for that. It is an interesting country, and the pay is fair. It is a land full of opportunities for such a man as your brother. Above all he will be doing some real useful work for his country.”
“And,” I added, “he will be out of Jakoub’s clutches once he gets there.”
“Yes, Jakoub will only be able to threaten you. And as long as he is at liberty I cannot see that you need fear him.”
By the time we reached home we had said all we needed to say about these matters. The bishop is not one of those who repeat the same thing over and over again, and call it “discussing the situation.”
So we were able to spend a happy evening together in the sixth century, forgetting even the brief pyrexia of modern Europe.
It was with a clear feeling of well-being that I came down the next morning to meet the summer sun that shone in through the open window with a scent of wallflowers which mingled agreeably with the faint fragrances proper to an English breakfast.