"All that glisters is not gold,
Often have you heard that told;
Many a man his life hath sold,
But my outside to behold."
_Merchant of Venice._
No sooner was Deacon Pratt left alone, than he hastened to the humble
dwelling of the Widow White. The disease of Daggett was a general decay
that was not attended with much suffering. He was now seated in a homely
armchair, and was able to converse. He was not aware, indeed, of the real
danger of his case, and still had hopes of surviving many years. The
deacon came in at the door, just as the widow had passed through it, on
her way to visit another crone, who lived hard by, and with whom she was
in the constant habit of consulting. She had seen the deacon in the
distance, and took that occasion to run across the road, having a sort of
instinctive notion that her presence was not required when the two men
conferred together. What was the subject of their frequent private
communications, the Widow White did not exactly know; but what she
imagined, will in part appear in her discourse with her neighbour, the
Widow Stone.
"Here's the deacon, ag'in!" cried the Widow White, as she bolted hurriedly
into her friend's presence. "This makes the third time he has been at _my_
house since yesterday morning. What _can_ he mean?"
"Oh! I dare say, Betsy, he means no more than to visit the sick, as he
pretends is the reason of his many visits."
"You forget it is Sabba' day!" added the Widow White, with emphasis.
"The better day, the better deed, Betsy."
"I know that; but it's dreadful often for a _man_ to visit the sick--three
times in twenty-four hours!"
"Yes; 't would have been more nat'ral for a woman, a body must own,"
returned the Widow Stone, a little drily. "Had the deacon been a woman, I
dare say, Betsy, you would not have thought so much of his visits."
"I should think nothing of them at all," rejoined the sister widow,
innocently enough. "But it is dreadful odd in a _man_ to be visiting about
among the sick so much--and he a deacon of the meeting!"
"Yes, it is not as common as it might be, particularly among deacons. But,
come in, Betsy, and I will show you the text from which minister preached
this morning. It's well worth attending to, for it touches on our forlorn
state." Hereupon, the two relicts entered an inner room, where we shall
leave them to discuss the merits of the sermon, interrupted by many
protestations on the part of the Widow White, concerning the "dreadful"
character of Deacon Pratt's many visits to _her_ cottage, "Sabba' days" as
well as week days.
In the meanwhile, the interview between the deacon, himself, and the sick
mariner, had its course. After the first salutations, and the usual
inquiries, the visiter, with some parade of manner, alluded to the fact
that he had sent for a physician for the other's benefit.
"I did it of my own head," added the deacon; "or, I might better say, of
my own heart. It was unpleasant to me to witness your sufferings, without
doing something to alleviate them. To alleviate sorrow, and pain, and the
throes of conscience, is one of the most pleasant of all the Christian
offices. Yes, I have sent young Gar'ner across the bays, to the Harbour;
and three or four hours hence we may look for him back, with Dr. Sage in
his boat."
"I only hope I shall have the means to pay for all this expense and
trouble, deacon," returned Daggett, in a sort of doubting way, that, for a
moment, rendered his friend exceedingly uncomfortable. "Go, I know I must,
sooner or later; but could I only live to get to the Vineyard, twould be
found that my share of the old homestead would make up for all my wants. I
_may_ live to see the end of the other business."
Among the other tales of Daggett, was one which said that he had never yet
received his share of his father's property; an account that was true
enough, though the truth might have shown that the old man had left
nothing worth dividing. He had been a common mariner, like the son, and
had left behind him a common mariner's estate. The deacon mused a moment,
and then he took an occasion to advert to the subject that had now been
uppermost in his thoughts ever since he had been in the habit of holding
secret conferences with the sick man. What that subject was, will appear
in the course of the conversation that ensued.
"Have you thought of the chart, Daggett," asked the deacon, "and given an
eye to that journal?"
"Both, sir. Your kindness to me has been so great, that I am not a man apt
to forget it."
"I wish you would show me, yourself, the precise places on the chart,
where them islands are to be found. There is nothing like seeing a thing
with one's own eyes."
"You forget my oath, deacon Pratt. Every man on us took his bible oath not
to point out the position of the islands, until a'ter the year 1820. Then,
each and all on us is at liberty to do as he pleases. But, the chart is in
my chest, and not only the islands, but the key, is so plainly laid down,
that any mariner could find 'em. With that chest, however, I cannot part
so long as I live. Get me well, and I will sail in the Sea Lion, and tell
your captain Gar'ner all he will have occasion to know. The man's fortune
will be made who first gets to either of them places."
"Yes, I can imagine that, easy enough, from your accounts, Daggett--but,
how am I to be certain that some other vessel will not get the start of
me?"
"Because the secret is now my own. There was but seven on us, in that
brig, all told. Of them seven, four died at the islands of the fever,
homeward bound; and of the other three, the captain was drowned in the
squall I told you of, when he was washed overboard. That left only Jack
Thompson and me; and Jack, I think, must be the very man whose death I
see'd, six months since, as being killed by a whale on the False Banks."
"Jack Thompson is so common a name, a body never knows. Besides, if he was
killed by that whale, he may have told the secret to a dozen before the
accident."
"There's his oath ag'in it. Jack was sworn, as well as all on us, and he
was a man likely to stand by what he swore to. This was none of your
custom-house oaths, of which a chap might take a dozen of a morning, and
all should be false; but it was an oath that put a seaman on his honour,
since it was a good-fellowship affair, all round."
Deacon Pratt did not _tell_ Daggett that Thompson might have as good
reasons for disregarding the oath as he had himself; but he _thought_ it.
These are things that no wise man utters on such occasions; and this
opinion touching the equality of the obligation of that oath was one of
them.
"There is another hold upon Jack," continued Daggrett, after reflecting a
moment. "He never could make any fist of latitude and longitude at all,
and he kept no journal. Now, should he get it wrong, he and his friends
might hunt a year without finding either of the places."
"You think there was no mistake in the pirate's account of that key, and
of the buried treasure?" asked the deacon, anxiously.
"I would swear to the truth of what _he_ said, as freely as if I had seen
the box myself. They was necessitated, as you may suppose, or they never
would have left so much gold, in sich an uninhabited place; but leave it
they did, on the word of a dying man."
"Dying?--You mean the pirate, I suppose?"
"To be sure I do. We was shut up in the same prison, and we talked the
matter over at least twenty times, before he was swung off. When they was
satisfied I had nothing to do with the pirates, I was cleared; and I was
on my way to the Vineyard, to get some craft or other, to go a'ter these
two treasures (for one is just as much a treasure as t'other) when I was
put ashore here. It's much the same to me, whether the craft sails from
Oyster Pond or from the Vineyard."
"Of course. Well, as much to oblige you, and to put your mind at rest, as
anything else, I've bought this Sea Lion, and engaged young Roswell
Gar'ner to go out in her, as her master. She'll be ready to sail in a
fortnight, and, if things turn out as you say, a good voyage will she
make. All interested in her will have reason to rejoice. I see but one
thing needful just now, and that is that you should give me the chart at
once, in order that I may study it well, before the schooner sails."
"Do you mean to make the v'y'ge yourself, deacon?" asked Daggett, in some
surprise.
"Not in person, certainly," was the answer. "I'm getting somewhat too old
to leave home for so long a time; and, though born and brought up in sight
of salt-water, I've never tried it beyond a trip to York, or one to
Boston. Still, I shall have my property in the adventure, and it's nat'ral
to keep an eye on _that_. Now, the chart well studied before-hand would be
much more useful, it seems to me, than it can possibly be, if taken up at
a late hour."
"There will be time enough for captain Gar'ner to overhaul his chart well,
afore he reaches either of his ports," returned the mariner, evasively.
"If I sail with him, as I suppose I _must_, nothing will be easier than
for me to give all the courses and distances."
This reply produced a long and brooding silence. By this time, the reader
will have got a clue to the nature of the secret that was discussed so
much, and so often, between these two men. Daggett, finding himself sick,
poor, and friendless, among strangers, had early cast about him for the
means of obtaining an interest with those who might serve him. He had soon
got an insight into the character of Deacon Pratt, from the passing
remarks of the Widow White, who was induced to allude to the uncle, in
consequence of the charitable visits of the niece. One day, when matters
appeared to be at a very low ebb with him, and shortly after he had been
put ashore, the sick mariner requested an interview with the deacon
himself. The request had been reluctantly granted; but, during the visit,
Daggett had managed so well to whet his visiter's appetite for gain, that
henceforth there was no trouble in procuring the deacon's company. Little
by little had Daggett let out his facts, always keeping enough in reserve
to render himself necessary, until he had got his new acquaintance in the
highest state of feverish excitement. The schooner was purchased, and all
the arrangements necessary to her outfit were pressed forward as fast as
prudence would at all allow. The chart, and the latitude and longitude,
were the circumstances over which Daggett retained the control. These he
kept to himself, though he averred that he had laid down on the charts
that were in his chest the two important points which had been the
subjects of his communications.
Although this man had been wily in making his revelations, and had chosen
his confidant with caution and sagacity, most of that which he related was
true. He had belonged to a sealer that had been in a very high southern
latitude, where it had made some very important discoveries, touching the
animals that formed the objects of its search. It was possible to fill a
vessel in those islands in a few weeks; and the master of the sealer,
Daggett having been his mate, had made all his people swear on their
"bible oaths" not to reveal the facts, except under prescribed
circumstances. His own vessel was full when he made the discoveries, but
misfortune befel her on her homeward-bound passage, until she was herself
totally lost in the West Indies, and that in a part of the ocean where she
had no business to be.
In consequence of these several calamities, Daggett and one more man were
the sole living depositories of the important information. These men
separated, and, as stated, Daggett had reason to think that his former
shipmate had been recently killed by a whale. The life and movements of a
sailor are usually as eccentric as the career of a comet. After the loss
of the sealing-vessel, Daggett remained in the West Indies and on the
Spanish Main for some time, until falling into evil company he was
imprisoned on a charge of piracy, in company with one who better deserved
the imputation. While in the same cell, the pirate had made a relation to
Daggett of all the incidents of a very eventful life. Among other things
revealed was the fact that, on a certain occasion, he and two others had
deposited a very considerable amount of treasure on a key that he
described very minutely, and which he now bestowed on Daggett as some
compensation for his present unmerited sufferings, his companions having
both been drowned by the upsetting of their boat on the return from the
key in question. Subsequently, this pirate had been executed, and Daggett
liberated. He was not able to get to the key without making friends and
confidants on whom he could rely, and he was actually making the best of
his way to Martha's Vineyard with that intent, when put ashore on Oyster
Pond. In most of that which this man had related to the deacon, therefore,
he had told the truth, though it was the truth embellished, as is so apt
to be the case with men of vulgar minds. He might have been misled by the
narrative of the pirate, but it was his own opinion that he had not been.
The man was a Scot, prudent, wary, and sagacious; and in the revelations
he made he appeared to be governed by a conviction that his own course was
run, and that it was best that his secret should not die with him. Daggett
had rendered him certain services, too, and gratitude might have had some
influence.
"My mind has been much exercised with this matter of the hidden gold,"
resumed the deacon, after the long pause already mentioned. "You will
remember that there may be lawful owners of that money, should Gar'ner
even succeed in finding it."
"'T would be hard for 'em to prove their claims, sir, if what McGosh told
me was true. Accordin' to his account, the gold came from all
sides--starboard and larboard, as a body might say--and it was jumbled
together, and so mixed, that a young girl could not pick out her lover's
keepsake from among the other pieces. 'T was the 'arnin's of three years
cruisin', as I understood him to say; and much of the stuff had been
exchanged in port, especially to get the custom-house officers and king's
officers out of its wake. There's king's officers among them bloody
Spaniards, Deacon Pratt, all the same as among the English."
"Be temperate in your language, friend; a rough speech is unseemly,
particularly of the Lord's day."
Daggett rolled the tobacco over his tongue, and his eyes twinkled with a
sort of leer, which indicated that the fellow was not without some humour.
He submitted patiently to the rebuke, however, making no remonstrance
against its reception.
"No, no," he added presently, "a starn chase, they say, is a long chase;
and the owners of them doubloons, if owners they can now be called, must
be out of sight, long before this. Accordin' to McGosh, some of the gold
r'aally captured had passed back through the hands of them that sent it to
sea, and they did not know their own children!"
"It is certainly hard to identify coin, and it would be a bold man who
should stand up, in open court, and make oath to its being the same he had
once held. I have heard of the same gold's having answered the purposes of
twenty banks, one piece being so like another."
"Ay, ay, sir, gold is gold; and any of it is good enough for me, though
doubloons is my favour_ites_. When a fellow has got half-a-dozen doubloons
alongside of his ribs, he can look the landlord full in the eye; and no
one thinks of saying to sich as he, 'it's time to think of shipping
ag'in.'"
From the nature of this discourse, it will not be easy for the reader to
imagine the real condition of Daggett. At the very moment he was thus
conversing of money, and incidentally manifesting his expectations of
accompanying Roswell Gardiner in the expedition that was about to sail,
the man had not actually four-and-twenty hours of life in him. Mary Pratt
had foreseen his true state, accustomed as she was to administer to the
wants of the dying; but no one else appeared to be aware of it, not even
the deacon. It was true that the fellow spoke, as it might be, from his
throat only, and that his voice was hollow, and sometimes reduced to a
whisper; but he ascribed this, himself, to the circumstance that he had
taken a cold. Whether the deacon believed this account or not, it might be
difficult to say; but he appeared to give it full credit. Perhaps his mind
was so much occupied with the subject of his discussions with Daggett,
that it did not sufficiently advert to the real condition of the man.
Twice, that afternoon, did Deacon Pratt go between the cottage of the
Widow White and his own dwelling. As often did the relict fly across the
way to express her wonder to the Widow Stone, at the frequency of the rich
man's visits. The second time that he came was when he saw the whale-boat
rounding the end of Shelter Island, and he perceived, by means of his
glass, that Dr. Sage was in it. At this sight the deacon hurried off to
the cottage again, having something to say to Daggett that could no longer
be delayed.
"The whale-boat will soon be in," he observed, as soon as he had taken his
seat, "and we shall shortly have the doctor here. That young Gar'ner does
what he has to do, always, with a jerk! There was no such haste, but he
seems to be ever in a hurry!"
"Do what is to be done at once, and then lie by, is the sailor's rule,
deacon," rejoined the mariner. "Squalls, and gusts, and reefin', and
brailin' up, and haulin' down, won't wait for the seaman's leisure. _His_
work must be done at once, or it will not be done at all. I'm not afeard
of the doctor; so let him come as soon as he pleases. Medicine can't hurt
a body, if he don't take it."
"There's one thing I wish to say to you, Daggett, before Dr. Sage comes
in. Talking too much may excite you, especially talking of matters that
are of interest; and you may give him a false impression of your state,
should you get the pulse up, and the cheek flushed, by over-talking."
"I understand you, deacon. My secret is my secret, and no doctor shall get
it out of me as long as I know what I say. I'm not so friendly with them,
as to seek counsel among doctors."
"Then it's the Lord's day," added the Pharisee, "and it is not seemly to
dwell too much on worldly interests, on the Sabbath."
A novice might have been surprised, after what had passed, at the
exceeding coolness with which the deacon uttered this sentiment. Daggett
was not so in the least, however; for he had taken the measure of his new
confidant's conscience, and had lived long enough to know how marked was
the difference between professions and practice. Nothing, indeed, is more
common than to meet with those who denounce that in others, which is of
constant occurrence with themselves; and who rail at vices that are so
interwoven with their own moral being, as to compose integral portions of
their existence. As for the deacon, he really thought it would be
unseemly, and of evil example, for Daggett to converse with Dr. Sage,
touching these doubloons, of the Lord's day: while he had felt no
scruples himself, a short hour before, to make them the theme of a long
and interesting discussion, in his own person. It might not repay us for
the trouble, to look for the salve that the worthy man applied to his own
conscience, by way of reconciling the apparent contradiction; though it
probably was connected with some fancied and especial duty on his part, of
taking care of the sick man's secrets. Sickness, it is well known, forms
the apology for many an error, both of omission and commission.
Dr. Sage now arrived; a shrewd, observant, intelligent man, who had
formerly represented the district in which he lived, in Congress. He was
skilful in his profession, and soon made up his mind concerning the state
of his patient. As the deacon never left him for a moment, to him he first
communicated his opinion, after the visit, as the two walked back towards
the well-known dwelling of the Pratts.
"This poor man is in the last stages of a decline," said the physician,
coolly, "and medicine can do him no good. He _may_ live a month; though it
would not surprise me to hear of his death in an hour."
"Do you think his time so short!" exclaimed the deacon. "I was in hopes he
might last until the Sea Lion goes out, and that a voyage might help to
set him up."
"Nothing will ever set him up again, deacon, you may depend, on that. No
sea-voyage will do him any good; and it is better that he should remain on
shore, on account of the greater comforts he will get. Does he belong on
Oyster Pond?"
"He comes from somewhere east," answered the deacon, careful not to let
the doctor know the place whence the stranger had come, though to little
purpose, as will presently be seen. "He has neither friend nor
acquaintance, here; though I should think his effects sufficient to meet
all charges."
"Should they not be, he is welcome to my visit," answered the doctor,
promptly; for he well understood the deacon's motive in making the remark.
"I have enjoyed a pleasant sail across the bays with young Gar'ner, who
has promised to take me back again. I like boating, and am always better
for one of these sailing excursions. Could I carry my patients along, half
of them would be benefited by the pure air and the exercise."
"It's a grateful thing to meet with one of your temperament, doctor--but
Daggett--"
"Is this man named Daggett?" interrupted the physician.
"I _believe_ that is what he calls himself, though a body never is certain
of what such people say."
"That's true, deacon; your rambling, houseless sailor is commonly a great
liar--at least so have I always found him. Most of their log-books will
not do to read; or, for that matter, to be written out, in full. But if
this man's name is really Daggett, he must come from the Vineyard. There
are Daggetts there in scores; yes, he must be a Vineyard man."
"There are Daggetts in Connecticut, as I know, of a certainty--"
"We all know that, for it is a name of weight there; but the Vineyard is
the cradle of the breed. The man has a Vineyard look about him, too. I
dare say, now, he has not been home for many a day."
The deacon was in an agony. He was menaced with the very thing he was in
the hope of staving off, or a discussion on the subject of the sick man's
previous life. The doctor was so mercurial and quick of apprehension,
that, once fairly on the scent, he was nearly certain he would extract
every thing from the patient. This was the principal reason why the deacon
did not wish to send for him; the expense, though a serious objection to
one so niggardly, being of secondary consideration when so many doubloons
were at stake. It was necessary, however, to talk on boldly, as any
appearance of hesitation might excite the doctor's distrust. The answers,
therefore, came instantaneously.
"It may be as you say, doctor," returned the deacon; "for them Vineyard
folks (Anglice folk) are great wanderers."
"That are they. I had occasion to pass a day there, a few years since, on
my way to Boston, and I found five women on the island to one man. It must
be a particularly conscientious person who could pass a week there, and
escape committing the crime of bigamy. As for your bachelors, I have heard
that a poor wretch of that description, who unluckily found himself cast
ashore there, was married three times the same morning."
As the doctor was a little of a wag, deacon Pratt did not deem it
necessary religiously to believe all that now escaped him; but he was glad
to keep him in this vein, in order to prevent his getting again on the
track of Daggett's early life. The device succeeded, Martha's Vineyard
being a standing joke for all in that quarter of the world, on the subject
of the ladies.
Mary was in the porch to receive her uncle and the physician. It was
unnecessary for her to ask any questions, for her speaking countenance
said all that was required, in order to obtain an answer.
"He's in a bad way, certainly, young lady," observed the doctor, taking a
seat on one of the benches, "and I can give no hope. How long he may live,
is another matter. If he has friends whom he wishes to see, or if he has
any affairs to settle, the truth should be told him at once, and no time
lost."
"He knows nothing of his friends," interrupted the deacon, quite thrown
off his guard by his own eagerness, and unconscious, at the moment, of the
manner in which he was committing himself on the subject of a knowledge of
the sick man's birth-place, "not having been on the Vineyard, or heard
from there, since he first left home, quite fifty years since."
The doctor saw the contradiction, and it set him thinking, and
conjecturing, but he was too discreet to betray himself. An explanation
there probably was, and he trusted to time to ascertain it.
"What has become of captain Gar'ner?" he asked, looking curiously around,
as if he expected to find him tied to the niece's apron-string.
Mary blushed, but she was too innocent to betray any real confusion.
"He has gone back to the schooner, in order to have the boat ready for
your return."
"And that return must take place, young lady, as soon as I have drunk two
cups of your tea. I have patients at the Harbour who must yet be visited
this evening, and the wind goes down with the sun. Let the poor man take
the draughts I have left for him--they will soothe him, and help his
breathing--more than this my skill can do nothing for him. Deacon, you
need say nothing of this visit--I am sufficiently repaid by the air, the
sail, and Miss Mary's welcome. I perceive that she is glad to see me, and
that is something, between so young a woman and so old a man. And now for
the two cups of tea."
The tea was drunk, and the doctor took his leave, shaking his head as he
repeated to the niece, that the medical science could do nothing for the
sick man.
"Let his friends know his situation at once, deacon," he said, as they
walked towards the wharf, where the whale-boat was all ready for a start.
"There is not an hour to lose. Now I think of it, the Flash, captain
Smith, is to take a cargo of oil to Boston, and sails to-morrow. I can
write a line by her, as it is ten to one she will go into the Hole. All
our craft get into that Hole, or into Tarpaulin Cove, before they venture
across the Shoals; and a letter addressed to any person of the name of
Daggett might find the right man. I'll write it this very evening."
The announcement of this intention threw the deacon into a cold-sweat, but
he did not think it prudent to say aught against it. He had bought the Sea
Lion, engaged Roswell Gardiner, and otherwise expended a large sum of
money, in the expectation of handling those doubloons, to say nothing of
the furs; and here was a chance of all his calculations being defeated by
the interference of impertinent and greedy relatives! There was no remedy
but patience, and this the deacon endeavoured to exercise.
Deacon Pratt did not accompany the doctor beyond the limits of his own
orchard. It was not deemed seemly for a member of the meeting to be seen
walking out on the Sabbath, and this was remembered in season to prevent
neighbourly comments. It is true, the _doctor_ might furnish an apology;
but, your strictly religious people, when they undertake the care of other
people's consciences, do not often descend to these particulars.
No sooner had Gardiner and the physician re-embarked than the deacon
returned to the cottage of the Widow White. Here he had another long and
searching discourse with the sick mariner. Poor Daggett was wearied with
the subject; but Dr. Sage's predictions of an early termination of the
case, and the possibility that kinsmen might cross over from the
'Vineyard,' in order to learn what the long absent man had in his
possession, acted on him as keen incentives. By learning the most material
facts now, the Sea Lion might get so far ahead of all competitors as to
secure the prizes, even should Daggett let others into the secret, and
start another vessel on the same expedition. His own schooner was nearly
ready for sea, whereas time would be needed in order to make an entire
outfit.
But Daggett did not appear to be disposed to be more communicative than
heretofore. He went over the narrative of the discovery of the
sealing-island, and gave a graphic account of the number and tame
condition of the animals who frequented it. A man might walk in their
midst without giving the smallest alarm. In a word, all that a gang of
good hands would have to do, would be to kill, and skin, and secure the
oil. It would be like picking up dollars on a sea-beach. Sadly! sadly!
indeed, was the deacon's cupidity excited by this account; a vivid picture
of whales, or seals, having some such effect on the imagination of a true
Suffolk county man, or more properly on that of an East-ender, as those
who live beyond Riverhead are termed, as a glowing account of a prairie
covered with wheat has on that of a Wolverine or a Buck eye; or an
enumeration of cent per cent. has on the feelings of a Wall-street broker.
Never before had Deacon Pratt been so much "exercised" with a love of
Mammon. The pirate's tale, which was also recapitulated with much gusto,
scarce excited him as much as Daggett's glowing account of the number,
condition, and size of the seals.
Nothing was withheld but the latitudes and longitudes. No art of the
deacon's, and he practised many, could extort from the mariner these most
material facts, without which all the rest were useless; and the old man
worked himself into a fever almost as high as that which soon came over
Daggett, in the effort to come at these facts--but all in vain.
At that hour the pulse of the sick man usually quickened; but, on this
occasion, it fairly thumped. He had excited himself, as well as his
listener; and the inconsiderate manner in which both had yielded up their
energies to these enticing images of wealth, contributed largely to
increase the evil. At length, exhaustion came to put an end to the scene,
which was getting to be dramatic as well as revolting.
So conscious was the deacon, on returning home that evening, that his mind
was not in such a condition as it behoved him to keep it in on the Lord's
Day, that he was afraid to encounter the placid eye of his devout and
single-minded niece. Instead of joining her, and uniting in the services
that were customary at that hour, he walked in the adjoining orchard until
near nine o'clock. Mammon was uppermost in the place of the Deity, and
habit offered too strong a barrier to permit him to bring, as it were, the
false god openly into the presence of the true.