“Then why ain’t Bibles sent to ’em at once?” asked Rokens, in a tone of great indignation, supposing that the doctor was expressing his own opinion on the subject. “Is there nobody to look arter these matters in Christian lands?”
“Oh, yes, there are many Bible Societies, and both Bibles and missionaries have been sent to this country; but it’s a large one, and the societies tell us their funds are limited.”
“Then why don’t they git more funds?” continued Rokens, in the same indignant tone, as his mind still dwelt upon the miseries and wickedness that he had seen, and that might be prevented; “why don’t they git more funds, and send out heaps o’ Bibles, an’ no end o’ missionaries?”
“Tim Rokens,” said the doctor, looking earnestly into his companion’s face, “if I were one of the missionaries, I might ask you how much money you ever gave to enable societies to send Bibles and missionaries to foreign lands?”
Tim Rokens was for once in his life completely taken aback. He was by nature a stolid man, and not easily put out. He was a shrewd man, too, and did not often commit himself. When he did, he was wont to laugh at himself, and so neutralise the laugh raised against him. But here was a question that was too serious for laughter, and yet one which he could not answer without being self-condemned. He looked gravely in the doctor’s face for two minutes without speaking; then he heaved a deep sigh, and said slowly, and with a pause between each word—
“Doctor Hopley—I—never—gave—a—rap—in—all—my—life.”
“So then, my man,” said the doctor, smiling, “you’re scarcely entitled to be indignant with others.”
“Wot you remark, doctor, is true; I—am—not.”
Having thus fully and emphatically condemned himself, and along with himself all mankind who are in a similar category, Tim Rokens relapsed into silence, deliberately drew forth his pipe, filled it, lit it, and began to smoke.
None of the party of travellers slept well that night, except perhaps the trader, who was accustomed to the ways of the negroes, and King Bumble, who had been born and bred in the midst of cruelties. Most of them dreamed of savage orgies, and massacres of innocent children, so that when daybreak summoned them to resume their journey, they arose and embarked with alacrity, glad to get away from the spot.