Part 24 (1/2)
There was a knocking at the door which led into the small courtyard at the back of the church.
The vicar called out ”Come in!” in a voice that rang with uncertainty and hope, and Joseph himself entered.
The Teacher was very pale and worn. His face was marked and lined as if he had quite recently pa.s.sed through some rending and tearing experiences, some deep agony of the soul. So Jacob might have appeared after he had wrestled with the Angel of the Lord, or Holy Paul when at last the scales fell from his eyes, and he received sight forthwith and arose.
”Ah, here you are,” Mr. Persse said in tones of immeasurable relief. ”We had almost given you up! There is a very large congregation, and some of the most important people in London are here. I hope you are prepared!”
”G.o.d will give me words,” Joseph answered quietly, though he did not look at the priest as he spoke.
”Oh, ah, yes!” Mr. Persse replied; ”though, for my own part, I confess to anxious preparation of all my sermons. Have you a surplice and a ca.s.sock? No? Oh well then we can fit you out very well from the choir cupboard.”
A surplice was found for him, the vicar knelt and said a prayer, and then the three men, the two priests and the evangelist, walked into the church.
There was a stir, a rustle, and then a dead silence.
Mr. Persse and the curate sat in their stalls, and Joseph ascended the stone steps to the pulpit, which was set high on the left side of the chancel arch.
He looked down from his high place upon the faces below. Row after row of faces met his eye. Nearly all the electric lights, save only those which gleamed on the pulpit ledge and illuminated a crucifix behind his head, were lowered. He saw a sheen of black and white, the dull glitter of jewels, and the innumerable faces.
Still standing, he lifted his hands high above his head, and in a loud voice cried upon G.o.d--
”Father, give me a tongue to speak to these Thy children. Lord Jesus, guide me. Holy Ghost, descend upon this church, and speak through the mouth of Thy servant.”
The voice rang like a bugle through the arches, and echoed in the lofty roof.
And now the words of the text: ”Oh, consider this, ye that forget G.o.d; lest I pluck you away, and there be none to deliver you.”
The second terrible warning to London had begun.
CHAPTER XIII
THE CONSPIRATORS OF ST. JOHN'S WOOD
At precisely the same hour on the Sunday evening when Joseph ascended the pulpit of St. Elwyn's Church a large red Napier motor-car stopped before the gate of a smart little villa in St. John's Wood.
The villa stood in its own grounds, and was surrounded by a high wall.
It had a general air of seclusion and retirement, though it was obviously the property or in the tenancy of people of wealth.
The wall was clean and newly pointed, the gate was painted a dark green, the short drive which led to the front door was made of the finest white marl.
The motor-car stopped, and two men descended from it, clearly defined in the radiance from two electric globes that were mounted on each pillar of the villa gate. Both wore opera hats, white scarves round their throats and black overcoats.
One was tall, slim, and clean-shaven. His age was about twenty-six, his hair was a pale golden color, and his face, too young as yet to be permanently spoilt and damaged, nevertheless bore the unmistakable imprint of a fast life.
The young man, evil though his countenance was, conveyed a certain impression of birth and breeding.
His companion, on the other hand, was just as unmistakably dest.i.tute of both. He was short and fat in figure. His face boasted a modic.u.m of impudent good looks, and was of a strongly Hebraic cast. The fine dark eyes, the hooked nose, the large lips--red like a ripe plum--all shouted the prosperous Jew.