Mr Arnold came out to meet us, followed by his wife. A few words from Captain Hudson served to explain who we were.
“Indeed you are welcome, most welcome,” he exclaimed, taking our hands. “We have enough and to spare, and there is work for all of you if, as I trust, you are willing to labour in the Lord’s vineyard.”
We were soon seated around the missionary’s hospitable board, for Captain Hudson’s ship was well-known, and Mrs Arnold had been preparing for the guests she was sure would come before they left the Pacific. She was an interesting looking lady, but there was an expression of sadness in her countenance, which at once struck me. Our host and hostess had, of course, many questions to ask, and we gave them an account of the dreadful events which had occurred to us. Captain Hudson told them of his wish to carry us on with him to England.
“We only desire to have willing labourers,” observed Mr Arnold, “and they having counted the cost must decide for themselves. They have some experience what it is; and you, Mr Norton, do you intend to return home?” he asked.
“My desire is, the Lord helping me, to prepare myself for a missionary among the heathen islanders of these seas,” he answered. “I have counted the cost, and with God’s grace I hope not to turn back.”
Mr Arnold warmly pressed his hand. “We will pray that His grace will ever continue with you,” he said. I felt an infinite satisfaction at hearing this.
While the gentlemen went out to walk we remained with Mrs Arnold, who gave us much interesting information about their island, and her account raised my hopes that our own poor savages, as I called them, might some day enjoy the same inestimable blessings, and that smiling villages and churches and schools might appear throughout the island.
On Mr Arnold’s return I saw that he was greatly agitated, and cast an eager inquiring glance at Maud. He advanced towards her, but seemingly restrained himself, and taking his wife by the hand, led her from the room.
During their absence Captain Hudson, sitting down by Maud, to my great surprise said, “Do you think, my dear, that the poor lady you supposed was your mother was really so?”
Maud started, then seemed lost in thought. “She was very, very kind to me, and I used to call her ‘mamma,’ because I had no other mamma then, but I have a faint idea that there was some one else whom I loved still better, and who had given me to her, saying, that we should meet again.”