But Manning seemed more and more clearly indicated as a refuge, as security. "Do you hear me?" cried the lady, with increasing vehemence. He would always see the picture of the huge, raw-boned Dutchman, haranguing and thundering the word of God into the dull ears of South Sea Islanders, who, an hour later, would be carrying fruit penitently to their wooden images. She had suddenly become as the jewels of the Madonna, as the idol's eye, infinitely beyond his reach, sacred. They were headed by an athleticlooking, swarthy-featured man, who was armed with a cutlass, which he waved over his head to cheer on his companions.
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