The Denison review. [volume] (Denison, Iowa) 1867-current, 1911-02-22

lOf Christ. He was priest holding
the torch of the true light to this alien
people and here, dark shadow across
it's brightness, had stood this derisive
denial. Yet now, perhaps, this man
stood on the threshold of the here
after-and he was a man of his own
race!
He turned to Barbara. "Wait here
for me-" he said. 81 am going in. l
will come back to you as soon as l
can"
CHAPTER XLl11.
The Golden crucifix.
The bishop went quickly through the
crowd to gap under the great gables,
where the beams had been sawed
through and the rubbish shoveled to
one side, making difficult way into
the interior. The enormous span of the
roof had sunk sidewise, splitting it's
supporting beams and bending the
walls outward, but it's great ridge had
remained intact and it now stretched,
a squat, ungainly lean-to, over what
had been the altar. The space was
strewn with brasses, fragments Of
fretted and carven doors, and splint-
cred beneath a mass of thing lay a
great image of Kwan-on. The daylight
came dimly in through the chlnks in
the ruin The air was warm and close
and had smell of pulverized plaster,
of stale incense and rotting wood. A
group of priests stood on the altar
platform beside a huddle Of wadded
mats and brocade draperies, on which
a man was lying, his open eyes up
turned to the painted monsters on the
twisted tangle of rafters.
The bishop hesitated, then came
close.
The mans head turned toward him
for an instant he seemed to shrink
into the cushions; then in his eyes,
dark with the last shadow, came
swift yearning. He spoke to the
priests and they drew back.
Arthur he said, don't you know
me?"
A gasping sound came from the
leaning bishop. John! John Fair
fax!" he cried, composure dropping
from him and fell on his knees. after
these years!"
The other lifted his hand and
touched the bishops pale, smooth
shaven face.
81 am going, Arthur" he said. 81
never intended to speak, though I've
seen you often l thought 1t
was best. Did she-did my wife never
tell you?"
."Never word, John! l have never
known!" cried the bishop, in shaken
voice.
ut was all my fault. All mine! l.
never believed as she did, Arthur, and
here in the East what was breath
and bread to her, to me came to seem
all mumbo- Jumbo. had had a hard
life, and l wanted comfort-for her.
Then l found out about the golden
lacquer"
He paused to gather the strength
that was fast ebbing.
81 got the formula from crazy
priest, and l began in small way
the idol-making, l mean. had shop
at Saga. At first it was only for the
mandarins in the China trade, and :.
no one knew. But the lacquer grew
famous. and within year | was ship
ping to Rangoon and Tibet. l made
all sorts of prayingtackle. Then
then l quarreled with my agent, and
he told my wife. She didn't believe
it., but one day he brought her
to where was at work. was model
ing an Amida for temple in Nagasa-
xii"
He threw an arm across his face
and moaned.
"She left me that night. A ship was
in the harbor. l never saw her
again. | never knew l had a daughter
till a week ago! never knew"
There was a silence.
Il have seen her. She must never
guess, Arthur! She thinks | :.
died in Nagasaki! It's better so.
Promise me-"
Il promise, john" said the bishop.
81 PROMISE
The bell of the temple across the in
closure began to strike. st sounds
like the bell of the old Greek
church." the failing voice said. when
1 left home the priest said ! would do
nothing good. But" the grim ghost
OF smile touched his lips-'1 made
good idols, Arthur" The smile
flickered out. my little girl! My own,
own daughter! Don't you {.