, and I laughed at difficulty and danger.

"Go!" she cried--"go; Emily Tresidder is coming. Go!"

"Not yet, the woman is showing her something else," and I felt thankful
because of this girl's love for finery. "Promise me," I continued, "that
you will not yield to those Tresidders. Stand firm, and they will be
afraid to force you. Remember, I will be always near, if I can, and that
they dare not harm you. Besides--oh, if you knew all you are to me!"

She looked at me eagerly while a film seemed to come over her eyes, and
I thought she was about to say something. Then a look of terror flashed
across her face. "Go!" she cried--"go! There is my guardian! Oh, take
care of yourself!" and then she rushed into the shop, leaving me
standing by the door, and only partially hidden from the crowd by some
things which had been placed by the door.

I quickly got among the crowd, but I know that both Nick Tresidder and
his father saw me, and I knew, too, that if they went into Humphry
Bolitho's shop they would find out that Naomi had spoken to me. And yet
I felt very joyous. I knew, although Naomi had not told me she loved me,
that she thought of me with more than passing kindness, while the flash
of her eyes told me that she could not be moulded at will, even by such
men as the Tresidders and such a woman as Richard Tresidder's mother.
Naturally I felt afraid for her, and for all she would have to suffer,
and yet the remembrance of the fact that she would speak to me kindly,
and had told me to take care of myself, as though she were anxious for
my welfare, filled me with a great hope, and hope giveth wings of
strength to those who are weighted with great burdens.

I had not been in the crowd above a minute before I felt myself carried
along the street, as if by the force of a mighty torrent. I was hemmed
in on every side by a seething mass of men and women, some of whom were
praying and singing, while others used many profane words, and uttered
threats which would not be seemly for me to write down. I quickly
learned that the people were making their way toward the house of a lady
who, I was told, was called Mrs. Bennetto, although I am not sure that
this was the correct name. I asked why they wanted to get there, and was
told that Mr. John Wesley was there, and that many were determined to
kill him. Most of the crowd, as I have said before, seemed exceedingly
bitter toward him, but others were loud in their praises of the great