originally korah brand had been a sailor--careless of religion, and content to live for the day without taking thought of the morrow. born in england, trained as a weaver, he had really wandered to america and the south seas at the dictation of a restless and inquiring spirit. in those unregenerate days he had been a law unto himself, and thereby sufficiently ill-governed. but the chance words of a missionary, met with in samoa, had turned his thoughts towards religion, and, deserting his seafaring life, he henceforth worked as a labourer in the lord's vineyard.

yet this change hardened rather than softened his character. he held by the mosaic law, and interpreted the precepts of christ in a spirit of narrow bigotry. "an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth;" "if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off." these were the fundamental articles of his creed. he spoke much of the punishment, little of the promise, and daunted the minds of his hearers with threats of eternal doom. in his own way he was a good man, but incapable of preaching on the text, "god is love." he hardly understood that these three words form the true basis of christianity.

in answer to johnson's urgent letter. brand presented himself next morning in the study. he had visited it several times before, yet on this occasion he again glanced critically round him as if in search of some indulgence deserving of rebuke. but the room and its contents were plain--even poor. the furniture was of stained deal, the floor was covered with coarse cocoa-nut matting brought by its owner from koiau. there were savage weapons on the walls between the well-filled bookcases: shells of strange hue and form ranged on the mantelpiece, and bright-coloured chintz curtains, drawn back with red, white, and blue cords, draped the one window. on these last brand's eyes rested with disapprobation.

"the lust of the eye is there, brother," he declared to the pensive johnson; "why do you deck your dwelling with purple and fine linen?"

"miss arnott gave them to me," explained johnson, lifting his heavy eyes; "she thought the room looked bare, and draped the window herself. the curtains are only of chintz, brother brand, although the cords are of silk. they can scarcely do harm."

"admit god's light into your tabernacle. let not your heart be led astray by the gifts of a light woman."

though he felt sick in mind and body, johnson could not let this remark pass without a protest.

"miss arnott is one of our most devoted sisters," said he, stiffly; "she was once in the bonds of sin as a singing woman, but she gave up the allurements of the world to serve humbly in our zion."

"the old leaven is still in her, brother. such gay adornments savour of the world. let me say a word in season----"

"this is not the season for words," interrupted johnson, impatiently. "i have to speak with you on other and more important matters."

"nothing is more important than a man's soul," rebuked korah, shaking his shaggy head; "but i suppose you desire to talk of the maiden bithiah?"

"yes. i want you to take her away to koiau as soon as possible; but i fear that you will not be able to do so." johnson rose and paced the room. "she has disappeared," he said, in a low voice.

"disappeared!" repeated brand, harshly. "what do you mean, brother? have you lost the precious pearl entrusted to your charge?"

"tera is lost. i admit she----."

"not tera, friend. we know her as bithiah."

"bithiah is lost," repeated the minister, patiently. "she left my house last evening, shortly after four o'clock, and has not returned. i fear," he added, "that she has taken her pearls with her."

"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, he would have misapplied it, as he did all other sayings of the christ whom he professed to follow.

in the meantime he searched for finland, and found him on the stone jetty, smoking and jesting with some fishermen. when brand appeared, the young sailor turned his back on him, for he had no love for a half-baked missionary. but korah, who had the pertinacity of a fanatic, was not to be put off so easily.

"john finland, come with me. i have need of you."

"need'll have to be your master then," sneered jack. "i've more to do than gavort round with psalm-singing critters."

brand seized the young man's shoulders with a grasp like a pair of pincers. "it is about bithiah," he said, sourly.

"i don't know any girl of that name."

"she was tera, when in the bonds of sin."

"tera!" jack led the missionary aside, and looked at him with a frown on his handsome face. "and what may you have to say about tera, mister missionary?"

"where is she, john finland?"

"how should i know? i am not her keeper."

"so answered cain when he destroyed his brother's body; but you, john finland, shall not evade my inquiry about the destruction of a human soul. tera, as you call her, is gone!--and you have taken her from the fold."

"tera gone!" finland paled through his bronzed complexion. "where has she gone?"

"i ask that," said brand, sternly. "last night she left the fold at six o'clock, and has not returned. she went to you, bearing precious jewels."

"i never saw her, i swear! last time i met her was the evening before yesterday, when johnson took her away. this comes of her being amongst your psalm-singing lot. you have made away with tera for the sake of her pearls."

finland was desperately in earnest, for he clenched his fists, spoke hoarsely, and looked wicked. brand was sufficiently a judge of human nature to see that this speech was made in all honesty. whosoever knew where tera had gone, jack was not the man. he was as astonished at her disappearance as brand himself.

"i see you are ignorant of her whereabouts," he said, in a disappointed tone. "we must seek elsewhere for bithiah."

"oh, i'll seek for her, i'll find her," said jack, between his teeth; "and if any harm has come to her, i'll wring that parson's neck! i know him--he loves tera, and i shouldn't be surprised if he has carried her off. but i'll find her--if she is above ground."

"above ground?" echoed brand. "you--you don't think the girl is dead!"