n. It could
not be serious.

But in spite of the fact that loving hearts refused to accept it, there
was no use denying the sad fact. There was something wrong with Kai
Bok-su. For months his voice had been growing weaker, the doctors had
examined his throat, and attended him, but it was all of no use. At last
he could not speak at all, but wrote his words on a slate.

And everywhere in north Formosa, converts and students and preachers
watched and waited and prayed most fervently that he might soon recover.
Those who lived in Tamsui whispered to each other in tones of dread,
as they watched him come and go with slower steps than they had been
accustomed to see.

"He will be well next month," they would say hopefully, or, "He
will look like himself when the rains dry." But little by little the
conviction grew that the beloved missionary was seriously ill, and a
great gloom settled all over north Formosa. There was a little gleam of
joy when the doctor in Tamsui advised him finally to go to Hongkong and
see a specialist He went, leaving many loving hearts waiting anxiously
between hope and fear to hear what the doctors would say. And prayers
went up night and day from those who loved him. From the heart-broken
wife in the lonely house on the bluff to the farthest-off convert on
the Ki-lai plain, every Christian on the island, even those in the south
Formosa mission, prayed that the useful life might be spared.

But God had other and greater plans for Kai Bok-su. He came back from
Hongkong, and the first look at his pale face told the dreaded truth. The
shadow of death lay on it.

Those were heart-breaking days in north Formosa. From all sides came
such messages of devotion that it seemed as if the passionate love of
his followers must hold him back. But a stronger love was calling him
on. And one bright June day, in 1901, when the green mountainsides, the
blue rivers, and the waving rice-fields of Formosa lay smiling in the
sun, Kai Bok-su heard once more that call that had brought him so far
from home. Once more he obeyed, and he opened his eyes on a new glory
greater than any of which he had ever dreamed. The task had been a hard
one. The "big stone" had been stubborn, but it had been broken, and not
long after the noontide of his life the tired worker was called home.

They laid his poor, worn body up on the hill above the river, beside
the bodies of the Christians he had loved so well. And the soft Formosan
gr