by Fergus Hume
CHAPTER XXV
MR BALTIC, MISSIONARY
About this time there appeared in Beorminster an elderly, weather-beatenman, with a persuasive tongue and the quick, alert eye of a fowl. Helooked like a sailor, and as such was an object of curiosity to inlandfolk; but he called himself a missionary, saying that he had labouredthese many years in the Lord's vineyard of the South Seas, and hadreturned to England for a sight of white faces and a smack ofcivilisation. This hybrid individual was named Ben Baltic, and had thehoarse voice of a mariner accustomed to out-roar storms, but hisconversation was free from nautical oaths, and remarkably entertainingby reason of his adventurous life. He could not be said to beobtrusively religious, yet he gave everyone the impression of being agood and earnest worker, and one who practised what he preached, for heneither smoked nor gambled nor drank strong waters. Yet there wasnothing Pharisaic about his speech or bearing.
In a pilot suit of rough blue cloth, with a red bandanna handkerchiefand a wide-brimmed hat of Panama straw, Mr Baltic took up his residenceat The Derby Winner, and, rolling about Beorminster in the true style ofJack ashore, speedily made friends with people high and low. The low hebecame acquainted with on his own account, as a word and a smile in hisgood-humoured way was sufficient to establish at least a temporaryfriendship; but he owed his familiarity with the 'high' to the goodoffices of Mr Cargrim. That gentleman returned from his holiday withmuch apparent satisfaction, and declared himself greatly benefited bythe change. Shortly after his resumption of his duties, he received avisit from Baltic the missionary, who presented him with a letter ofintroduction from a prominent London vicar. From this epistle thechaplain learned that Baltic was a rough diamond with a gift ofuntutored eloquence, that he desired to rest for a week or two inBeorminster, and that any little attention shown to him would begrateful to the writer. It said much for Mr Cargrim's goodwill andcharity that, on learning all this, he at once opened his arms and heartto the missionary-mariner. He declared his willingness to make Baltic'sstay as pleasant as he could, but was shocked to learn that thenew-comer had taken up his abode at The Derby Winner. His feelingsextended even so far as remonstrance.
'For,' said Cargrim, shaking his head, 'I assure you, Mr Baltic, thatthe place is anything but respectable.'
'And for such reason I stay there, sir. If you want to do good beginwith the worst; that's my motto. The Christian heathen can't be worsethan the Pagan heathen, I take it, Mr Cargrim.'
'I don't know so much about that,' sighed Cargrim. 'Refined vice isalways the most terrible. Witness the iniquities of Babylon and Rome.'
'There ain't much refinement about that blackguard public,' answered themissionary, without the shadow of a smile, 'and if I can stop all theswearing and drinking and shuffling of the devil's picture-books whichgoes on there, I'll be busy at the Lord's work, I reckon.'
From this position Baltic refused to budge, so in the end Cargrim leftoff trying to dissuade him, and the conversation became of a moreconfidential character. Evidently the man's qualities were notover-praised in the letter of introduction, for, on meeting him once ortwice and knowing him better, Cargrim found occasion to present him tothe bishop. Baltic's descriptions of his South Sea labours fascinated DrPendle by their colour and wildness, and he suggested that themissionary should deliver a discourse of the same quality to the public.A hall was hired; the lecture was advertised as being under thepatronage of the bishop, and so many tickets were sold that the buildingwas crowded with the best Beorminster society, led by Mrs Pansey. Themissionary, after introducing himself as a plain and unlettered man,launched out into a wonderfully vigorous and picturesque description ofthose Islands of Paradise which bloom like gardens amid the blue watersof the Pacific Ocean. He described the fecundity and luxuriance ofNature, drew word-portraits of the mild, brown-skinned Polynesians, weptover their enthralment by a debased system of idolatry, and painted theblessings which would befall them when converted to the gentle religionof Christ. Baltic had the gift of enchaining his hearers, and theaudience hung upon his speech with breathless attention. The naturalgenius of the man poured forth in burning words and eloquentapostrophes. The subject was picturesque, the language was inspiriting,the man a born orator, and, when the audience dispersed, everyone, fromthe bishop downward, agreed that Beorminster was entertaining anuntutored Demosthenes. Dr Pendle sighed as he thought of the many dullsermons he had been compelled to endure, and wondered why the majorityof his educated clergy should fall so far behind the untaught,unconsecrated, rough-mannered missionary.
From the time of that lecture, Ben Baltic, for all his lowly birth anduncouth ways, became the lion of Beorminster. He was invited by MrsPansey to afternoon tea; he was in request at garden-parties; he gavelectures in surrounding parishes, and, on the whole, created anundeniable sensation in the sober cathedral city. Baltic observed muchand said little; his eyes were alert, his tongue was discreet, and, evenwhen borne on the highest tide of popularity, he lost none of hismodesty and good-humour. He still continued to dwell at The DerbyWinner, where his influence was salutary, for the customers there drankless and swore less when he was known to be present. Certainly, suchreformation did not please Mr Mosk over-much, and he frequently grumbledthat it was hard a man should have his trade spoilt by a psalm-singingmissionary, but a wholesome fear of Cargrim's threat to inform Sir Harrychecked him from asking Baltic to leave. Moreover, the man was greatlyliked by Mrs Mosk on account of his religious spirit, and approved of byBell from the order he kept in the hotel. Therefore Mosk, being in theminority, could only stand on one side and grumble, which he did withtrue English zeal.
It was while Baltic was thus exciting Beorminster that Sir Harry Bracecame back. Gabriel, in pursuance of his father's wish, had gone over toNauheim after a short interview with Bell, in which he had told her ofhis father's opposition to the match. Bell was cast down, but did notdespair, as she thought that the bishop might soften towards Gabrielduring his absence; so she sent him abroad with a promise that she wouldremain true to him until he returned. When the curate joined Mrs Pendleand Lucy, Sir Harry, with much regret, had to relinquish his pre-nuptialhoneymoon, and returned to Beorminster in the lowest of spirits. Thebishop did not tell him about Gabriel's infatuation for Bell, nor did heexplain that George had engaged himself secretly to Mab Arden, so Harrywas quite in the dark as regards the domestic dissensions, and,ascribing the bishop's gloom to the absence of his family, visited himfrequently in order to cheer him up. But the dark hour was on BishopPendle, and notwithstanding the harping of this David, the evil spiritwould not depart.
'What is the matter with the bishop?' asked Harry one evening ofCargrim. 'He is as glum as an owl.'
'I do not know what ails him,' replied the chaplain, who, for reasons ofhis own, was resolved to hold his tongue, 'unless it is that he has beenworking too hard of late.'
'It isn't that, Cargrim; all the years I have known him he has neverbeen so down-in-the-mouth before. I fancy he has something on his mind.'
'If you think so, Sir Harry, why not ask him?'
Brace shook his head. 'That would never do!' he answered. 'The bishopdoesn't like to be asked questions. I wish I could see him livelier; isthere nothing you can suggest to cheer him up?'
'Baltic might deliver another lecture on the South Seas!' said Cargrim,blandly. 'His lordship was pleased with the last one.'
'Baltic!' repeated Sir Harry, giving a meditative twist to his blackmoustache, 'that missionary fellow. I was going to ask you somethingabout him!'
Cargrim looked surprised and slightly nervous. 'Beyond that he is amissionary, and is down here for his health's sake, I know nothing abouthim,' he said hastily.
'You introduced him to the bishop, didn't you?' 'Yes. He brought aletter of introduction to me from the Vicar of St Ann's in Kensington,but his biography was not given me.'
'He's been in the South Seas, hasn't he?'
'I believe that his labours lay amongst the natives of the islands!'
'Wel
l, I know him!' said Brace, with a nod.
'You know him!' repeated the chaplain, anxiously.
'Yes. Met him five years ago in Samoa; he was more of a beach-comberthan a missionary in those days. Ben Baltic he calls himself, doesn'the? I thought so! It's the same man.'
'He is a very worthy person, Sir Harry!'
'So you say. I suppose people improve when they get older, but he wasn'ta saint when I knew him. He racketed about a good deal. Humph! perhapshe repented when I saved his life.'
'Did you save his life?'
'Well, yes. Baltic was raising Cain in some drunken row along with a setof Kanakas, and one of 'em got him under to slip a knife into him. Icaught the nigger a clip on the jaw and sent him flying. There wasn'tmuch fight in old Ben when I straightened him out after that. So he'sturned devil-dodger. I must have a look at him in his new capacity.'
'Whatever he has been,' said Cargrim, who appeared uneasy during therecital of this little story, 'I am sure that he has repented of hispast errors and is now quite sincere in his religious convictions.'
'I'll judge of that for myself, if you don't mind,' drawled the baronet,with a twinkle in his dark eyes, and nodding to Cargrim, he strolledoff, leaving that gentleman very uncomfortable. Sir Harry saw that hewas so, and wondered why any story affecting Baltic should render thechaplain uneasy. He received an explanation some days later from themissionary himself.
Brace possessed a handsome family seat, embosomed in a leafy park, somefive miles from the city. At present it was undergoing alterations andrepairs, so that it might be a more perfect residence when the futureLady Brace crossed its threshold as a bride. Consequently the greaterpart of the house was in confusion, and given over to painters,plasterers, and such-like upsetting people. Harry, however, had decidedto live in his own particular rooms, so that he might see thateverything was carried out in accordance with Lucy's wish, and the winghe inhabited was in fairly good order. Still, Sir Harry being abachelor, and extremely untidy, his den, as he called it, was in a stateof pleasing muddle, which oftentimes drew forth rebukes from Lucy. Shewas resolved to train her Harry into better ways when she had the wifelyright to correct him, but, as she frequently remarked, it would be thethirteenth labour of Hercules to cleanse this modern Augean stable.
Harry himself, with male obstinacy, always asserted that the room wastidy enough, and that he hated to live in a prim apartment. He said thathe could lay his hand on anything he wanted, and that the seemingconfusion was perfect order to him. Lucy gave up arguing on thesegrounds, but privately determined that when the honeymoon was over shewould have a grand 'clarin up' time like Dinah in _Uncle Tom's Cabin_.In the meanwhile, Harry continued to dwell amongst his confusedhousehold gods, like Marius amid the ruins of Carthage.
And after all, the 'den,' if untidy, was a very pleasant apartment,decorated extensively with evidences of Harry's athletic tastes. Therewere boxing-gloves, fencing-foils, dumb-bells, and other aids tomuscular exertion; silver cups won at college sports were ranged on themantelpiece; on one wall hung a selection of savage weapons which Harryhad brought from Africa and the South Seas; on the other, a huntingtrophy of whip, spurs, cap and fox's brush was arranged; and pictures ofcelebrated horses and famous jockeys were placed here, there andeverywhere. The writing-table, pushed up close to the window, waslittered with papers, and letters and plans, and before this Harry wasseated one morning writing a letter to Lucy, when the servant informedhim that Mr Baltic was waiting without. Harry gave orders for hisinstant admittance, as he was curious to see again the sinner turnedsaint, and anxious to learn what tide from the far South Seas hadstranded him in respectable, unromantic Beorminster.
When the visitor entered with his burly figure and bright, observanteyes, Harry gave him a friendly nod, but knowing more about Baltic thanthe rest of Beorminster, did not offer him his hand. From his height ofsix feet, he looked down on the thick-set little missionary, and tellinghim to be seated, made him welcome in a sufficiently genial fashion,nevertheless with a certain reserve. He was not quite certain ifBaltic's conversion was genuine, and if he found proof of hypocrisy, wasprepared to fall foul of him forthwith. Sir Harry was not particularlyreligious, but he was honest, and hated cant with all his soul.
'Well, Ben!' said he, looking sharply at his visitor's solemn red face,'who would have thought of seeing you in these latitudes?'
'We never know what is before us, sir,' replied Baltic, in his deep,rough voice. 'It was no more in my mind that I should meet you underyour own fig-tree than it was that I should receive a call through you!'
'Receive a call, man! What do you mean?' asked Harry, negligently. 'Bythe way, will you have a cigar?'
'No thank you, sir. I don't smoke now.'
'A whisky and soda, then?'
'I have given up strong waters, sir.'
'Here is repentance indeed!' observed the baronet, with some sarcasm.'You have changed since the Samoan days, Baltic!'
'Thanks be to Christ, sir, I have,' said the man, reverently, 'and mycall was through you, sir. When you saved my life I resolved to lead anew one, and I sought out Mr Eva, the missionary, who gave me hope ofbeing a better man. I listened to his preaching, Sir Harry, I read theGospels, I wrestled with my sinful self, and after a long fight I wasmade strong. My doubts were set at rest, my sins were washed in theBlood of the Lamb, and since He took me into His holy keeping, I havestriven to be worthy of His great love.'
Baltic spoke so simply, and with such nobility, that Brace could not butbelieve that he was in earnest. There was no spurious affectation, nocant about the man; his words were grave, his manner was earnest, andhis speech came from the fulness of his heart. If there had been a falsenote, a false look, Harry would have detected both, and great wouldhave been his disgust and wrath. But the dignity of the speech, thesimplicity of the description, impressed him with a belief that Balticwas speaking truly. The man was a rough sailor, and therefore notcunning enough to feign an emotion he did not feel, so, almost againsthis will, Brace was obliged to believe that he saw before him a Saulconverted into a Paul. The change of Pagan Ben into Christian Baltic waslittle else than miraculous.
'And are you now a missionary?' said Brace, after a reflective pause.
'No, Sir Harry,' answered the man, calmly, and with dignity, 'I am aprivate inquiry agent!'
