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The Trail of the Golden Horn

Indians were thoroughly enjoying themselves. Then followed the service, after which the missionary began his address. He leaned against the lectern for support, and it was only his excitement which enabled him to stand at all. He spoke very impressively for some time, his voice growing weaker every minute. Marion longed to speak to him, and advise him to desist, but his animated face and the marvellous light in his eyes restrained her. He seemed to her like some unearthly being. His white hair, flowing beard, and tall form made a most impressive scene in that dimly-lighted building. He had his message to deliver, and it would be almost sacrilege to interrupt him.

At length he stopped, placed his hand wearily to his forehead, and then began to speak in English.

“I wish to say a few words to you, my kind white friends,” he said. “This service is the direct answer to my prayers. I have waited long for this occasion, and I knew that the Lord would hear, and bring this to pass. At times I was tempted to leave this place and go elsewhere. But I was determined that the Lord would not be without a man to stand in The Gap. I have stood here for long years, and the Lord has been very good. I can say like that worthy man of old, ‘Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace according to Thy word. For mine eyes have seen Thy salvation which Thou hast prepared—’”

He suddenly stopped, his face turned deathly white, his hands groped as if for support, and then he dropped upon the floor right at the foot of the lectern. With a startled cry, Marion darted to his side, while Hugo and the doctor hurried forward. The latter knelt upon the floor and quickly examined the prostrate man. For a few minutes a complete silence pre-