Part 13 (1/2)

The Stranger answered, without raising His eyes from the ground:

'Is it I that have brought you here? Then it is well.'

There was a t.i.tter--a woman's giggle rising above the rest. The Stranger, raising His head, looked towards where the speaker stood.

'It were well if most of you should die to-night. O people of no understanding, that discern the little things and cannot see the greater, that have made G.o.ds of your bellies, and but minister unto your bodies, what profiteth it whether you live or whether you die?

Neither in heaven nor on earth is there a place for you. What, then, is it that you do here?'

A man replied:

'It seems that you are someone in particular. We want to know who you are, according to your own statement.'

'I am He on whose name, throughout the whole of this great city, men call morning, noon, and night. And yet you do not know Me. No!

neither do those know Me that call upon Me most.'

'Ever heard of Hanwell?' asked one. 'Perhaps there's some that have known you there.'

The questioner was called to order.

'Stow that! Let's know what he's got to say! Let's hear him out!'

The original inquirer continued.

'For what have you come here?'

'For what?' The Stranger looked up towards the skies. 'It is well that you should ask. I am as one who has lost his way in a strange land, among a strange people; yet it was to Mine own I came, in Mine own country.'

There was an interval of silence. When the inquirer spoke again, it was in less aggressive tones.

'Sir, there is a music in your voice which seems to go to my heart.'

'Friend!' The Stranger stretched out His hand towards the speaker.

'Friend! Would that it would go to all your hearts, the music that is in Mine--that the sound of it would go forth to all the world! It was for that I came.'

This time there was none that answered. It was as though there was that in the Stranger's words which troubled His listeners-- which made them uneasy. Here and there one began to steal away.

Presently, as the silence continued, the number of these increased.

Among them was the inquirer; the Stranger spoke to him as he turned to go.

'It was but seeming--the music which seemed to speak to your heart?'

Although the words were quietly uttered, they conveyed a sting; the man to whom they were addressed was plainly disconcerted.

'Sir, I cannot stay here all night. I am a married man; I must go home.'

'Go home.'

'Besides, the gates will soon be shut, and late hours don't agree with me; I have to go early to business.'

'Go home.'