for this property----"

"Well?" His great staring eyes had stopped the man.

"----have decided to sell."

"_Sell_? Did you say se----? To whom? What?"

"To tell you the truth, to the syndicate of a music hall."

John staggered back, breathing audibly. "Now if a man had to believe
that--Do you know if I thought such a thing _could_ happen----"

"I'm sorry you take the matter so seriously, Father Storm. It's true
you've spent money on the property, but, believe me, the trustees will
derive no profit----"

"Profit? Money? Do you suppose I'm thinking of that, and not of the
desecration, the outrage, the horror? But who are they? Is that
man--Lord----"

The Greek had nodded his head, and John flung open the door. "Out of
this! Out of it, you Judas!" And almost before the Greek had crossed the
threshold the door was banged at his back.

The incident had been observed, and there was dead silence in the
club-room, but John only cried, "Let's sing something, girls," and when a
Sister struck up his favourite Nazareth there was no voice so loud as
his.

But he had realized everything. "Gloria" was coming back, and the work of
months was overthrown!

When he was going home groups of the girls were talking in whispers in
the hall, and Mrs. Pincher, who was wiping her eyes at the door, said, "I
wonder you don't drown yourself--I do!"

At the corner of the lane Mr. Jupe was waiting for him to beg his pardon
and to ask his advice. What he had said of Mrs. Jupe had turned out to be
true. The Sharkeys had "split" on her and she had been arrested. "It was
all in the evenin' pipers last night," the weak creature whimpered, "and
to-day my manager told me I 'ad best look out for another place. Oh, my
poor Lidjer! What am I to do?"

"Do? Cut her off like a rotten bough!" said John scornfully, and with
that he strode down the street. The human sea roared around him, and he
felt as if he wanted to fling himself into the midst of it and be
swallowed up.

On reaching Victoria Square he told Mrs. Callender the news--flung it out
at her with a sort of triumphant shout. His church had been sold over his
head, and being only "Chaplain to the Greek-Turks," he was to be turned
into the streets. Then he laughed wildly, and by some devilish impulse
began to abuse Glory. "The next chaplain is to be a girl," he cried, "one
of those creatures who throw kisses at gaping crowds and sweep curtsies
for their dirty crusts."

But all at once