n sitting on a gate
opposite the Baptist chapel indulged himself with another pipe. He
made his halt here because several times when he had gone farther he
had found Mavis accompanied by old Rodchurch acquaintances who had
volunteered to escort her for a portion of the homeward journey, and
he felt no inclination for this sort of chance society.

Not a human being, not even the smallest sign of a man's habitation,
was in sight; not a movement of bird or beast could be perceived in
the stretching expanse of flat fields, across which huge cloud shadows
passed slowly; the broad white road on either hand seemed to lead from
nowhere to nowhere, and Dale, meditatively puffing out his tobacco
smoke and watching it rise and vanish, had that sense of deep and
almost solemn restfulness which comes whenever we realize that for any
reason we are cut off from the possibility of communication with our
kind. For a few moments he felt as a man feels all alone at the summit
of a mountain, in the depths of an untrodden forest, on the limitless
surface of a calm ocean. Yet, as he knew, there were men quite near to
him. Across the road, not fifty yards away, the brick walls of the
Baptist Chapel were hiding many men and women. Perhaps it was the
complete isolation of this ugly building, the house of prayer pushed
away into the desert far from all houses of laughter and talk, that
had induced the idea of isolation in himself.

If he listened, he could hear sounds made by men. Through the chapel
windows there came a continuous murmur, like the buzzing of a monster
bee under the dome of a glass hive--the voice of the pastor preaching
his sermon. Then all at once came loud music, shuffling of seats,
scraping of chairs; and a voluminous song poured out and upward in the
silent air. Dale idly thought of this chorus as resembling the smoke
from the pipe--something that went up a little way and faded long
before it reached the sky.

The music ceased. The congregation were leaving the chapel. Dale got
off the gate, put his pipe in his pocket, and watched the humble
worshipers as they came toward him. He knew them nearly all, and
gravely returned their grave salutations as they passed by. They were
maid-servants and men-servants from Rodchurch, old people and quite
young people, a few laborers and cottage-women; and they all walked
slowly, not at first talking to one another, but smiling with
introspective vagueness. Dale observed their decent co