“I’ll read a portion of the Church of England liturgy to the men,” said he, “and a chapter out of the Bible. What chapter do you recommend?”
I was at a loss.
“Give them something interesting,” said I, “something that will carry them along with you.”
“Right,” he exclaimed, with a little light of vivacity in his somewhat sunken and somewhat leaden eye, “what d’ye say to a fight out of Joshua?”
“I do not think,” I answered, “that a good fight out of Joshua could be bettered.”
“I’ll give ’em that chapter,” said he, “in which the son of Nun corks the five kings up in a cave and then hangs them. Not that there’s any moral that I can see in that sort of narrative. It is an Ebrew Gazette extraordinary—a pitiful, bloody business from beginning to end. But if the reading of a chapter of it causes even one of the sailors to take an interest in the Bible I shall have done some good.”
“So you will.”
“Do you know the men’s persuasions?”
“Not I, captain.”
“The Spaniards are Roman Catholics, of course. The Dutchmen and the others will be of us if they’re of anything. When you go on deck tell Bol to see that the crew clean themselves, and let him muster and bring them aft for divine service at half-past ten.”