"We must encourage it. If we are to be idols we can't afford to give our subjects a bit of relief from their religious obligations, and I'm quite sure we are idols or sovereigns, more than likely the former, judging by the snubbing our flinty friend has received."
"If we are to live among these people, Hugh Ridgeway, I, for one, intend to tell them, if possible, of the real God, and to do what I can for a cause I served but feebly in the past. I may be a poor missionary, but I intend to try in my weak way to do some good among these poor, benighted creatures."
"I think we'd better let well enough alone," said he disparagingly.
"Why, Hugh, how can you say that?"
"I haven't thought very much about God since I've been in this land. I've been too busy," he muttered, with no little shame in his face, although he assumed an air of indifference.
"He saved us from the sea," she said simply, with a tremor in her voice. "Surely you remember the prayers you uttered from your very soul on that night. Were they not to God?"
"Begin your missionary work with me, Tennys. I am worse than the savages," he said, not in answer to her question.
Silently and greedily they ate of the delicious fruit, and found new sensations in the taste of more than one strange viand of nature. A calm restfulness settled down upon their tired bodies, and all the world seemed joyfully at peace with them.
Almost overcome by sleep, he managed to toss a few tiger skins on the ground near the door, not forgetting to place his club beside the improvised couch. "Sleep comfortably and don't be afraid," he said. She slowly arose from the block and threw herself on the bed of skins.
"You are so good to me and so thoughtful," she murmured sleepily. "Good-night!"