sure that he would have been more
politic to remain silent. He realized that the evening's performance
would cause a sensation and be talked about all over town. The
Come-Outers would glory in their leader's denunciation of him, and his
own people would perhaps feel that it served him right. If he had only
told Mrs. Coffin of what he intended to do. Yet he had not told her
because he meant to do it anyhow. Altogether it was a rather humiliating
business.

So that old bigot was the Van Horne girl's "uncle." It hardly seemed
possible that she, who appeared so refined and ladylike when he met her
at the parsonage, should be a member of that curious company. When
he rose to speak he had seen her in the front row, beside the thin,
middle-aged female who had entered the chapel with Captain Hammond and
with her. She was looking at him intently. The lamp over the speaker's
table had shone full on her face and the picture remained in his memory.
He saw her eyes and the wavy shadows of her hair on her forehead.

He stepped off the platform, across the road, out of the way of
homeward-bound Come-Outers, and stood there, thinking. The fog was
as heavy and wet as ever; in fact, it was almost a rain. The wind
was blowing hard from the northwest. The congregation dispersed in
chattering groups, their lanterns dipping and swinging like fireflies.
The chatter dealt entirely with one subject--himself. He heard his name
mentioned at least twenty times. Out of the gusty, dripping blackness
came Mr. Badger's voice.

"By time!" crowed Josiah, "he was took down a few p-p-pup-pegs, wa'n't
he! My! how Eben did g-gi-gi-give it to him. He looked toler'ble white
under the gills when he riz up to heave out his s-s-sus-sassy talk. And
foolish, too. I cal'late I won't be the only town fuf-fuf-fool from now
on. He! he!"

The noises died away in the distance. Within the chapel the tramp
of heavy boots sounded as the lights were blown out, one by one. The
minister frowned, sighed, and turned homeward. It is not pleasant to be
called a fool, even by a recognized member of the fraternity.

He had taken but a few steps when there was a rustle in the wet grass
behind him.

"Mr. Ellery," whispered a voice, "Mr. Ellery, may I speak to you just a
moment?"

He wheeled in surprise.

"Why! why, Miss Van Horne!" he exclaimed. "Is it you?"

"Mr. Ellery," she began, speaking hurriedly and in a low voice, "I--I
felt that I must say a word to you before--"