Surely a master hand touched the keys that day, for the
street boy sat like a statue listening eagerly to the sweet sounds,
and suddenly he found his cheeks wet. He dashed his hand impatiently
across them wondering what was the matter with him, for tears were
strangers to Tode's eyes, but in spite of himself they filled again,
till he almost wished the music would cease--almost but not quite, for
that strange happiness thrilled his heart as he listened.
Then far-off voices began to sing, coming nerrer and nearer, until a
long line of white-robed men and boys appeared, singing as they
walked, and last of all came the kingly stranger who had brought Tode
into the church, and he went to the lectern and began to read.
"The--bishop!" Tode breathed the words softly, in a mixture of wonder
and delight, as he suddenly realised who this man must be.
He sat through the remainder of the service in a dreamy state of
strange enjoyment. He did not understand why the people around him
stood or knelt at intervals. He did not care. When the bishop prayed,
Tode looked around, wondering whom he was calling "Lord." He concluded
that it must be the one who made the music.
He listened eagerly, breathlessly, to the sermon, understanding almost
nothing of what was said, but simply drinking in the words spoken by
that rich, sweet voice, that touched something within him, something
that only Little Brother had ever touched before.
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