Prisoners of Chance

The straining of cords, together with sound of struggle, bore evidence that the Reverend Mr. Cairnes was making heroic effort to attain unto that food offered before idols. That such strenuous effort was vain was soon proven by the bursting forth of his voice once more.

"Oh, gracious Lord," he cried, in a tone evidencing more anger than spiritual exaltation, "surely thy ancient servant Job never bowed before greater affliction than this now visited upon me. Verily 't is even as the experiences of the Apostle Paul, yet without his reward in the flesh. I beseech Thee from the depth of humiliation--even as did Daniel from the lions' den--loosen my arms that I may smite as with Thy wrath this profaner of Thy most holy name, thus bringing peace unto the smitten heart of Thy faithful servant. O Lord, what have I done to be deserted in this hour of extremity? As Elijah called down fire from Heaven, so I call upon Thee to smite with the terror of Thy might the ranks of these foul idolaters. He who hath boldly proclaimed Thy truth in the wilderness, who hath proven a faithful witness unto these savages, through many years of trial and tribulation, doth now call upon Thee in dire distress. Shall it be in vain, that he thus uplifts his voice supplicating in the wilderness?"

His deep rumbling died away until I could distinguish little except those moans with which he punctuated the conclusion of each sentence. Finally, hearing no other sound to restrain me, I ventured to slightly uplift one corner of the heavy curtain, and peer into the room. The entrance opened upon the back of the rude platform, my position being within less than three paces from the famine-stricken Puritan, who, with low-bowed head and hidden face, was still wrestling in fervent prayer. I was unable, from where I hid, to distinguish the form of the crouching priest, yet knew he could not be far distant, and therefore I durst not speak above a whisper lest the sound awaken his suspicion.

"Cairnes," I said softly, "hush that unseemly racket, man, and give heed to my words."

Three times I was compelled to repeat this warning before I noticed him lift his head, in evidence that the faint sound had finally reached his ears. Unable to turn, he rolled his eyes inquiringly upward.

"What is it, O Lord?" he questioned, with such unbounded faith in a celestial visitant I found it hard to restrain a laugh.

"Don't be a fool," I whispered back hastily. "The Almighty may have guided me here, but 'tis a man in the flesh who speaks."