"What pearls, brother? What pearls?"
"Pearls worth three thousand pounds, which Buli gave her to sell here, before she returned to Koiau. She wished to keep them until the time of her return, and gave them into my keeping. In this drawer," said Johnson, touching the desk, "I locked them up. When I returned yesterday evening the pearls were gone--Bithiah also."
It will be perceived that Johnson omitted to explain the loss and return of the bills. This he did for two reasons. Firstly, his private affairs were his own concern. Secondly, to take Brand into his confidence would result only in a lecture. Korah, however, found in the disappearance of Tera and her pearls quite sufficient matter for anger. It was serious that an influential convert, and a comparatively large fortune, should be lost to the sect of which he was a member. At first he was inclined to speak severely; but a momentary reflection convinced him that it would be wiser first to examine Johnson with a view to reaching the root of the matter. Brand was not without diplomatic gifts.
"If you please," said he, dryly, "we will approach this matter with more particularity. How do you know that Bithiah has gone away?"
"How do I know?" echoed the minister, with surprise on his haggard face; "why, she has not been home all night. Moreover, we had a few words."
"About what?"
Johnson hesitated. It was unpleasant to tell this unsympathetic zealot the story of his love; but for the sake of gaining help it seemed inevitable. Still he temporized, so that courage to speak boldly might come to him in the interval. "About a man called Finland," said he.
"Jack Finland, the sailor? Brother Carwell's nephew?"
"Oh, you know him?"
"I know of him, and no good either. He was in the South Seas some few months back, and bore no very good character. So far as the low moral standard of fellow-man goes, he is right enough. But he is not a Christian; he is steeped in vanity. One of those who grin like a dog and run about the city. What is Bithiah to him?"
"She is in love with him. Wait, don't speak. Since this sister returned to Grimleigh he has followed her constantly with the low, sensual passion which he miscalls love. The other night, after your lecture, she left our Bethgamul to meet him. I found them together, and she--she declared her love," cried Johnson, with sudden passion. "She said it was her intention to marry him--to marry that son of Belial, lost and iniquitous as he is. I took her away from his sinful company, and brought her home into this very room."
"And then?" demanded Korah, with his eyes on the quivering white face.
"Then I reproved her for consorting with sinners. I told her of my love."
"Oh!" said Korah, very dryly, "then it was jealousy, and not pure Christianity, which urged you to save her?"
"Call it what you like, Brand. I loved her, and I told her of my love. I asked her to be my wife. I promised to take her back to the islands, that we might work together in the vineyard. She refused."
"She was right to refuse. How dare you mingle sacred and profane love?"
"I am but a man," replied Johnson, sullenly, "and as a man I feel: what harm was there in telling her that I wished to make her my wife? I am a minister, a follower of Christ. Is it not better that she should marry me, rather than Finland, the infidel?"
"You knew that I was about to take her back, brother; you might also have guessed that Buli had other views for her future. He has. This girl shall marry neither you nor Finland. But all you say in no way explains her disappearance."
"I think it does, Brand. I told her that she must never see this sailor again; and I believe that she has gone that she may free herself from the prohibition."
"Do you think that she has gone away with Finland?"
"If she went with him, they are not together now. Early this morning I saw him in the High Street, but I was not able to speak to him. It struck me that Bithiah might have sought out Shackel."
"Shackel! Who is he?"
"Jacob Shackel," explained the minister, "the captain of the boat we came home in. He is a godless, rum-drinking creature, but Tera--I mean Bithiah--was drawn to him, and she promised to visit him in London."
"Where does he live, brother?"
"Somewhere near the docks, I believe. He gave Bithiah his address. Oh, I am sure she has gone to him, so that he may take her back to Koiau on his next voyage."
"Is he in London now?"
"Yes. Bithiah received a letter from him only last week. He will help her to go away, as he has no love for us, Brother Korah."
"A mocker!" said Brand, sadly. "Bithiah cannot go away. She has no money."
"She has the pearls; and they are worth three thousand pounds at least."
"How do you know that she took them?"
"I am certain she took them," said Johnson, emphatically, "although I have only circumstantial evidence to go on. Bithiah was the only person who knew that they were locked in this drawer. Unfortunately, I left my keys behind me when I went out visiting yesterday; so it was easy for her to take them away."
Korah frowned, and combed his beard with his fingers. "So far as I can judge from your story," said he, rebukingly, "this maiden has departed to avoid your love."
"Say rather because I wished to keep her from Finland."
"Well, I will see Finland, brother. If he knows where Bithiah is, she shall be brought back--but not to you. I myself will take her to Koiau and deliver her to her father."
"You take no account of my feelings," said Johnson, bitterly.
"The Lord's work cannot be hindered for your earthly passion. If Buli knew that you wished to take his child from him, he would not protect our missionaries, and the good seed would be sown in barren ground. But we can speak of these things later, Brother Johnson. The first thing to do is to rescue the maiden from the consequences of her foolish flight, I will question Finland. And you?"
"I am going up to London by the mid-day train to see Captain Shackel."
"Why not write or telegraph?" suggested Korah.
"I think it best to be on the spot myself, brother."
The missionary nodded and rose to leave the room. At the door he paused and looked at Johnson keenly from under his shaggy brows.
"Brother," said he in a deep and solemn voice, "your feet are straying from the narrow path. You love this maiden entrusted to your care, and weary after the pearls."
"No, no, I do not. What do I want with the pearls?"
"Brother," Brand shook a menacing finger, "it is known that you owe money. With those pearls you would pay the price of your follies."
"How do you know that I owe money?" asked Johnson, pale to the lips.
"Your handmaiden found a letter swept aside. It was from a tailor, requesting from you payment of eighty pounds due to him. What have you to do with the vanity of dyed garments from Bozrah?"
"My private affairs are my own, Mr. Brand," cried Johnson, with spirit. "I allow no man to discuss them in my presence."
"Brother, brother, your feet go downwards to the pit. A wastrel, a lover of vanities, how can you be the pastor of our Bethesda? Take heed lest you stumble, for soon the eyes of all shall be open to your iniquity."
As the missionary departed, he cast a look over his shoulder, and saw the unhappy minister sink back in his chair with a look of pain. But Brand, in his Pharisaical uprightness, had no pity for the man or for his position. "As he has sown, so shall he reap," muttered he, and dismissed the matter from his mind. He quite forgot that other text, "Bear ye one another's burdens;" yet had he remembered,