le to
bear the journey? Will you tell me?--will you sit down?"

He thanked her hurriedly, and took a seat opposite to her, within the
circle of the firelight, so that she saw his deep mourning and the look
of repressed suffering.

"The whole thing was extraordinary--I can hardly now describe it," he
said, holding his hat in his hands and staring into the fire. "It began
excellently. There was a very full room. Bennett was in the chair--and
Edward seemed much as usual. He had been looking desperately ill, but he
declared that he was sleeping better, and that his sister and I coddled
him. Then,--directly he was well started!--I felt somehow that the
audience was very hostile. And _he_ evidently felt it more and more.
There was a good deal of interruption and hardly any cheers--and I saw
after a little--I was sitting not far behind him--that he was
discouraged--that he had lost touch. It was presently clear, indeed,
that the real interest of the meeting lay not in the least in what he
had to say, but in the debate that was to follow. They meant to let him
have his hour--but not a minute more. I watched the men about me, and I
could see them following the clock--thirsting for their turn. Nothing
that he said seemed to penetrate them in the smallest degree. He was
there merely as a ninepin to be knocked over. I never saw a meeting so
_possessed_ with a madness of fanatical conviction--it was amazing!"

He paused, looking sadly before him. She made a little movement, and he
roused himself instantly.

"It was just a few minutes before he was to sit down--I was
thankful!--when suddenly--I heard his voice change. I do not know now
what happened--but I believe he completely lost consciousness of the
scene before him--the sense of strain, of exhaustion, of making no way,
must have snapped something. He began a sort of confession--a reverie in
public--about himself, his life, his thoughts, his prayers, his
hopes--mostly his religious hopes--for the working man, for England--I
_never_ heard anything of the kind from him before--you know his
reserve. It was so intimate--so painful--oh! so painful!"--he drew
himself together with an involuntary shudder--"before this crowd, this
eager hostile crowd which was only pining for him to sit down--to get
out of their way. The men near me began to look at each other and
titter. They wondered what he meant by maundering on like that--'damned
canting stuff'--I heard one man near me call it.