Hard, brutal men and rude street boys listened, feeling a
strange power that they could not understand, thrilling their souls,
and compelling them, in spite of their own wills, to follow the
counsels of this servant of God.
No other man in that great city was honoured and loved by rich and
poor alike, as was the bishop. To no other would such a crowd in such
a mood have hearkened, but they stood in silence and listened
breathlessly as if they feared to lose a single word. They listened as
if they knew that never again would such a message come to them from
those lips. Stern, bitter faces softened, and hard eyes dimmed with
tears as the burning, melting words fell on the listening ears. Women
wept, and men forgot their hatreds and their grievances. Only here and
there an evil face grew more evil as the bishop's words worked upon
the hearts and consciences of that vast throng.
Tom Steel dropped his mask of careless indifference, as he tried to
stem the tide by whispering sneers and taunts to one and another, but
they would have none of his counsels now, and after a while he slunk
away with a black scowl on his face and evil words on his lips, and
still beside him slouched the gaunt, ragged figure with its crown of
rough red hair; and no one bade them stay; no one listened to their
wicked whispers, for the bishop's words were filling every ear and
every heart.
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