As he stood upon the bridge, he held down the light, and looked into the profound abyss. “A confusion of motives—that’s what I am!. I only want to know the truth, and I will move heaven and earth to have it set aside. He seemed safe from the sickness, having been surrounded by the dying, he had witnessed the carnage up close and yet his health still prevailed. 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.
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