azing upon the little woman who had thus broken every
tradition of the community in lifting her voice in a public assembly and
who had dared to challenge the authority of one who for nearly twenty
years had been recognised as the autocrat of the village and of the
whole countryside. But the Rector was an alert and gallant fighter. He
quickly recovered his poise.

"If Mrs. Gwynne, our good friend and neighbour, desires to address this
meeting," he said with a courteous and elaborate bow, "and I am sure by
training and tradition she is quite capable of doing so, I am confident
that all of us will be delighted to listen to her. But the question in
hand is not quite so simple as she imagines. It is--"

"Liberty of speech," said the voice again from the dark corner.

The Rector wheeled fiercely in the direction from which the interruption
came.

"Who speaks," he cried; "why does he shrink into the darkness? Let him
come forth."

Again discretion held the interrupter silent.

"As for you--you, sir," continued the Rector, turning upon the
evangelist, "if you desire--"

But at this point there was a sudden commotion from the opposite side of
the room. A quaint dwarfish figure, crippled but full of vigour, stumped
up to the platform.

"My son," he said, grandly waving the Rector to one side, "allow me, my
son. You have done well. Now I shall deal with this gentleman."

The owner of the misshapen body had a noble head, a face marked with
intellectual quality, but the glitter in the large blue eye told the
same tale of mental anarchy. Startled and astonished, the evangelist
backed away from the extraordinary creature that continued to advance
upon him.

"Sir," cried the dwarf, "by what right do you proclaim the divine
message to your fellowmen? Have you known the cross, have you felt the
piercing crown, do you bear upon your body the mark of the spear?" At
this with a swift upward hitch of his shirt the dwarf exposed his bare
side. The evangelist continued to back away from his new assailant, who
continued vigorously to follow him up. The youngsters in the crowd broke
into laughter. The scene passed swiftly from tragedy to farce. At this
point the Rector interposed.

"Come, come, John," he said, laying a firm, but gentle, hand upon the
dwarf's shoulder. "That will do now. He is perfectly harmless, sir," he
said, addressing the evangelist. Then turning to the audience, "I think
we may dismiss this meeting," and, raisi