public hall in which meetings of the sort were generally held was
nearly filled by the time the Van Erk party arrived. They, however,
were shown to seats near the platform whence the speakers were to
address the people. Many more persons crowded in, till the hall was
quite full. Just then five gentlemen appeared on the platform,
advancing with slow and dignified steps. A curious and very mixed
feeling agitated Wenlock's heart when among them he recognised Master
William Penn, and his father's old friend, Captain Mead. The thought of
his father rushed into his mind, and a tear filled his eye. He thought,
however, also of Mary, and he longed to ask her father about her; yet,
at that moment, to do so was impossible. As the speakers appeared, the
whole hall was hushed in silence. At length William Penn offered up a
prayer in Dutch. He then introduced a tall thin, careworn man, as
George Fox, who addressed the people in English, Penn interpreting as he
spoke. He urged on them in forcible language to adopt the principles
which the Friends had accepted, and many were moved to tears while he
spoke. William Mead then came forward, but said little. Another
Englishman, Robert Barclay, then addressed the assemblage. He was
followed by Penn himself; who, in calm yet forcible language, placed the
simple truths of the gospel before his hearers. Wenlock's feelings were
greatly moved. His reason too was convinced. He had had a severe
lesson. He had declined to accept those principles, and sought for
worldly honour and distinction instead. The result had been the loss of
his beloved father, he himself escaping with life almost by a miracle.
"Those are old friends I little expected to meet again," said Wenlock to
Gretchen and her mother. "I must speak to them now, lest they leave the
city to-morrow and I may miss them."

As the assembly broke up, the speakers descended into the body of the
hall, and Wenlock found himself standing before William Penn and Captain
Mead. Neither of them knew him, though they looked at him kindly,
having observed the deep attention with which he had listened to their
discourses. "I am afraid, Master Mead, I am forgotten," said Wenlock,
feeling that he must speak at last. The Quaker started, and examined
his countenance narrowly. "What!" he exclaimed, "art thou the son of my
ancient comrade? Verily I thought that he and thou were long since
numbered with the dead. How is it, young man?