When Angus looked upon his brother, he knew shame. There stood the testament to his father’s sin. As he studied, wide-eyed, the dark face, a wave of rebellion rose in his heart, and he almost hated his father’s memory. His being cried out against the vast injustice of the thing—that he, the son of a betrayed wife, must face the humiliation and bear the burden of a traitor father’s evil.
Would this shame conquer him? Would his repugnance at the whole ignoble affair overrule any sense of duty he might cherish? Emil Konrad thought so. He believed he was witnessing the downfall, in humiliation and dishonor, of one who held himself a man of God. Konrad hated missionaries, in general. Often they had stood between him and the spoliation of weak peoples. This particular missionary, this red Scotc
