een a preconcerted signal, it could not have been more
effectual, for there was instantly a simultaneous as well as an
universal outcry. The whole place was filled with a confused din of
voices; some were praying, some singing, some shouting, and others
exhorting, and that at the top of their voices, in order to be heard. In
the midst of this I began to sing a hymn, hoping to restore order, and
many joined me; but it only added more sound to the uproar.

The good vicar was overwhelmed with fear and dismay, as well he might
be, at this tumultuous scene. It was bad enough to stand and look at the
waves of the sea; but when they rose and broke, as it were, on the shore
where he was standing, and surrounded him, it was altogether too much.
He made for the door, and, waiting there, beckoned me to him. When I
came he suddenly opened it, and drew me out, saying, "There will be no
peace till you are out of this place." The extreme change from the hot
cellar into the cold and pitiless wind and rain was so great, that we
fled precipitately to the cottage which stood opposite. Happily, the
door was on the latch, and we went in. I felt about in the dark for a
chair, but not finding one, sat on the table, listening to the noise and
din of the meeting.

The vicar vainly thought that the tumult would subside as soon as I was
gone, for he said that I "made as much noise, if not more, than any of
them!" He went back into the storm to get my hat and coat, and also the
inevitable umbrella, without which no one can get on in Cornwall. He was
a long time absent, during which a man with heavy boots came into the
dark cottage where I was sitting, and tumbling down on a seat somewhere,
heaved a heavy sigh. He evidently did not suspect that any one was
there. After sighing and groaning several times, he said to himself,
"What shall I do?--what shall I do? The man is right, sure enough; he is
right, I'm sure on it--that he is."

I disguised my voice, and asked, "What man?"

"Oh," he said, "are you there, neighbour? Couldn't yer get in? Why, I
mean the man what's been speaking inside."

"What did he say?"

"Why, said he, 'the devil's no fool!' and of course he ain't. He has
hooks in all his baits, and I have swallowed lots o' them. Oh, what
shall I do? What shall I do?"

Then I heard him shuffling to his knees, groaning and praying. I sat
still on the table, saying, "Amen! amen!" every now and then, to his
prayer, till he became terribly