r boats set on a
ledge before that altar. I pointed to the silver star, and my
guide answered my mute question: 'A gift to Our Lady, Star of
this lake and these lake-shores,' he said. 'It was one night in
August of last year that it happened, the miracle or whatever you
wish to call it.' 'Did Our Lady appear on the lake?' I asked
keenly, for memories began to stir in me. 'No, not quite that,'
said the White Father. He had a brown beard, and a very white
face, and he spoke clear-cut English. 'There was a light seen
over the water.' Then it was that the surmise about the
gramophone recurred to me. 'Do you really think,' I asked, 'that
there was a light to be seen? If so, what was there strange about
it?' 'Well, it was a miracle of sorts,' he said. 'I didn't
believe about it at first, for I didn't see reason for it. They
said it was a light given to lure the English within range. That
was the talk of some of our Catholics in the town, but it wasn't
good talk. I argued against it.' He paused. Then I told him,
smilingly, the story of the gramophone. 'It's a parallel story,'
I said. 'Our Lady was indeed divided against herself that night
in her clients' estimation.' 'It shows the absurdity of war
between Catholics,' he murmured. 'Yes, of war between so-called
Christian nations,' I agreed. In an impulse I shook his hand.
'But there was a light,' I said: 'I saw it.' 'So did I,' he said.
'Was it the light of a dhow?' I wondered. 'No,' he said,
surprisingly, 'the dhow was on the other side of your ship.' He
pointed to the votive star. 'That star commemorates this sight of
a light, or rather of a star,' he said. 'I veritably believe that
the star light was Our Lady of the Lake's work. Yet she did not
in the least mean to show the English where to land and slaughter
us, nor on the other hand to lure them on to a fiery doom. Our
Lady wants the salvage of men's lives not their destruction.
Guess what happened that night.'

I was puzzled. I took the star into my hand and looked it over.
It only had 'Muanza' graved upon it, 'Muanza' and the date of
that August evening. No, I gave it up. So he told me his version
of events. 'There was a dhow beating round the corner of an
island. The Goanese skipper had no idea that you were there. It
was a near thing. He was lucky, wasn't he, that the alarm of the
light seen by your watch came just then? He was running almost
straight for your war-ship. But you started off on a course that
took you