red and ceiled. Beds
resembling the bunks in the foc's'le of a ship lined the walls. When
these were full the lodgers lay on the ground. A blanket only was
provided. The men slept in their clothes, but rolled up their coats for
pillows. There was a stove where they might cook their food if they had
money to buy any. A ha'p'orth of tea and sugar mixed, a ha'p'orth of
bread, and a ha'p'orth of butter made a royal feast.

Going through the square in which his church stood he passed a smart gig
at the door of a public-house that occupied the corner of a street. The
publican in holiday clothes was stepping up to the driver's seat, and a
young soldier, smoking a cigarette, was taking the place by his side.
"Morning, Father, can you tip us the winner?" said the publican with a
grin, while the soldier, with an impudent smile, cried "Ta-ta" over his
shoulder to the second story of a tenement house, where a young woman
with a bloated and serious face and a head mopped up in curl-papers was
looking down from an open window.

It was nine o'clock when John Storm reached the Prime Minister's house. A
small crowd of people had followed him to the door. "His lordship is
waiting for you in the garden, sir," said the footman, and John was
conducted to the back.

In a shady little inclosure between Downing Street and the Horse Guards
Parade the Prime Minister was pacing to and fro. His head was bent, his
step was heavy, he looked harassed and depressed. At sight of John's
monkish habit he started with surprise and faltered uneasily. But
presently, sitting by John's side on a seat under a tree, and keeping his
eyes away from him, he resumed their old relations and said:

"I sent for you, my boy, to warn you and counsel you. You must give up
this crusade. It is a public danger, and God knows what harm may come of
it! Don't suppose I do not sympathize with you. I do--to a certain
extent. And don't think I charge you with all the follies of this
ridiculous distemper. I have followed you and watched you, and I know
that ninety-nine hundredths of this madness is not yours. But in the eye
of the public you are responsible for the whole of it, and that is the
way of the world always. Enthusiasm is a good thing, my boy; it is the
rainbow in the heaven of youth, but it may go too far. It may be hurtful
to the man who nourishes it and dangerous to society. The world classes
it with lunacy and love and so forth among the nervous accidents of life;