Mir Jan's white-clothed figure was lost in the dark background.

The island was becoming vague, dream-like, a blurred memory.
"Robert," said the girl devoutly, "God has been very good to us." "Yes," he replied.

"I was thinking, even this instant, of the verse that is carved on the gate of the Memorial Well at Cawnpore: 'These are they which came out of great tribulation.' We, too, have come out of great tribulation, happily with our lives--and more.

The decrees of fate are indeed inscrutable." Iris turned to him a face roseate with loving comprehension.
"Do you remember this hour yesterday ?" she murmured--"how we suffered from thirst--how the Dyaks began their second attack from the ridge--how you climbed down the ladder and I followed you?
Oh father, darling," she went on impulsively, tightening her grasp, "you will never know how brave he was, how enduring, how he risked all for me and cheered me to the end, even though the end seemed to be the grave." "I think I am beginning to understand now," answered the shipowner, averting his eyes lest Iris should see the tears in them.

Their Calvary was ended, they thought--was it for him to lead them again through the sorrowful way?
It was a heartrending task that lay before him, a task from which his soul revolted.