ted out on our ramble through
Derby-town.

Shortly after we left the inn we divided into couples for the ostensible
reason that we did not wish to attract too much attention--Dorothy and
John, Madge and I! Our real reason for separating was--but you understand.

Madge's hand lay like a span of snow upon my arm, and--but this time I
will restrain my tendency to rhapsodize.

We walked out through those parts of the town which were little used, and
Madge talked freely and happily.

She fairly babbled, and to me her voice was like the murmurings of the
rivers that flowed out of paradise.

We had agreed with John and Dorothy to meet them at the Royal Arms in one
hour, and that time had almost passed when Madge and I turned our faces
toward the inn.

When we were within a short distance of our hostelry we saw a crowd
gathered around a young man who was standing on a box. He was speaking in
a mournful, lugubrious voice and accompanied his words with violent
gesticulations. Out of curiosity we stopped to listen, and learned that
religion was our orator's theme.

I turned to a man standing near me and asked:--

"Who is the fellow speaking?"

"The pious man is Robert Brown. He is exhorting in the name of the Lord of
Hosts."

"The pious Robert Brown?" I queried, "exhorting in the name of--of the
Lord of where, did you say?"

"Hosts," laconically responded my friend, while listening intently to the
words of Brown.

"Hosts, say you? Who is he?" I asked of my interesting neighbor. "I know
him not."

"Doubtless you know Him not," responded the man, evidently annoyed at my
interruption and my flippancy.

After a moment or two I, desiring to know more concerning the orator,
asked:--

"Robert Brown, say you?"

"Even he," came the response. "It will be good for your soul if you but
listen to him in a prayerful mood. He is a young man upon whom the Spirit
hath descended plenteously."

"The Spirit?" I asked.

"Ay," returned my neighbor.

I could not extract another word from him, so I had the worst of the
encounter.

We had been standing there but a short time when the young exhorter
descended from his improvised pulpit and passed among the crowd for the
purpose of collecting money. His harangue had appeared ridiculous to me,
but Madge seemed interested in his discourse. She said:--

"He is very earnest, Malcolm," and at once my heart went out to the young
enthusiast upon the box. One kind word from Madge, and