"No Mohocks! No Scourers!" cried the mob. Once more he begged; but as Ruth only repeated her sharp command, he spun about and raced toward the jungle. This was the bitterest hour he had ever known. She seemed honestly glad to see him. What she had termed illuminative now appeared to be only another phase of the mystery which enveloped the child. Mark yourself as a charitable man and you’ll be rewarded here and in Heaven. Why? He could preach the Word and deny Love!—tame the savage heart, succour broken white men!—pray with his face strained with religious fervour! The idea made her dizzy because it was so inexplicable.
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