Ceasing from rhetoric, the speaker began to tell of his own experience and sufferings in the Cause amongst savage tribes; for he himself was a missionary of many years standing.

He told how once he and a companion had been sent to a nation, who named themselves the Sons of Fire because their god was the lightning, if indeed they could be said to boast any gods other than the Spear and the King.

In simple language he narrated his terrible adventures among these savages, the murder of his companion by command of the Council of Wizards, and his own flight for his life; a tale so interesting and vivid that even the bucolic sleepers awakened and listened open-mouthed.
"But this is by the way," he went on; "for my Society does not ask you to subscribe towards the conversion of the Children of Fire.

Until that people is conquered--which very likely will not be for generations, seeing that they live in Central Africa, occupying a territory that white men do not desire--no missionary will dare again to visit them." At this moment something caused him to look a second time at Thomas Owen.

He was leaning forward in his place listening eagerly, and a strange light filled the large, dark eyes that shone in the pallor of his delicate, nervous face.
"There is a man who would dare, if he were put to it," thought the Deputation to himself.