about it that sounded and looked grandiose. The offices in the two
capitals may have consisted--and probably did--of one room in each;
but at that distance, out East there, all this had an air. We were more
puzzled than dazzled, it is true; but even the most sober-minded among
us began to think that there was something in it. The Tesmans appointed
agents, a contract for government mail-boats secured, the era of steam
beginning for the islands--a great stride forward--Heyst's stride!

And all this sprang from the meeting of the cornered Morrison and of the
wandering Heyst, which may or may not have been the direct outcome of a
prayer. Morrison was not an imbecile, but he seemed to have got himself
into a state of remarkable haziness as to his exact position towards
Heyst. For, if Heyst had been sent with money in his pocket by a direct
decree of the Almighty in answer to Morrison's prayer then there was no
reason for special gratitude, since obviously he could not help himself.
But Morrison believed both, in the efficacy of prayer and in the
infinite goodness of Heyst. He thanked God with awed sincerity for his
mercy, and could not thank Heyst enough for the service rendered as
between man and man. In this (highly creditable) tangle of strong
feelings Morrison's gratitude insisted on Heyst's partnership in the
great discovery. Ultimately we heard that Morrison had gone home through
the Suez Canal in order to push the magnificent coal idea personally
in London. He parted from his brig and disappeared from our ken; but
we heard that he had written a letter or letters to Heyst, saying that
London was cold and gloomy; that he did not like either the men or
things, that he was "as lonely as a crow in a strange country." In
truth, he pined after the Capricorn--I don't mean only the tropic; I
mean the ship too. Finally he went into Dorsetshire to see his people,
caught a bad cold, and died with extraordinary precipitation in the
bosom of his appalled family. Whether his exertions in the City of