The day was ending—their shadows long upon the water. Fleury raised his hand as he said:
“It is surer to me than anything in the world——”
“What, Fleury?” Bellair asked, though there was but one theme of the day.
“That this is our last day in the open boat.”
Bellair did not answer. His own voice had a hideous sound to him and betrayed his misery.
“It was the too-great light—that I saw,” the preacher added huskily. “It began last night as I prayed. I saw that this was the last day for us—but more——”
“I saw something about you as you prayed,” the woman said.
Fleury surprised them now, taking a sup of water. They saw that he had something to say about God and the soul of man—that was the romance he worshipped. They listened with awe. In Bellair’s heart, at least, there was a conviction that tightened continually—that they were not long to hear the words of the preacher.
“... For two years I have been in the dark and could not pray. Before that I prayed with the thought of self, which is not prayer. I could not stay as a church leader without praying. I said I would pray when I could pray purely for them. I told them, too, that I could not look back in service and adoration to the Saviour of another people who lived two thousand years ago. They called me a devil and a blasphemer. For two years, I have tried to serve instead of to pray, but no one would listen, no one would have me. They said I was insane, and at times I believed it. At last, it came to me that I must go away—to the farthest part of the world——”