Malcolm hurried to the front to make way for them.
But the preacher caught sight of the movement, and, filled with a
fury which seemed to him sacred, rushed to the rescue of souls.
"Stop!" he shouted. "Go not hence, I charge you. On your lives I
charge you! Turn ye, turn ye: why will ye die? There is no fleeing
from Satan. You must resist the devil. He that flies is lost. If
you turn your backs upon Apollyon, he will never slacken pace until
he has driven you into the troop of his dogs, to go howling about
the walls of the city. Stop them, friends of the cross, ere they
step beyond the sound of mercy; for, alas! the voice of him who is
sent cannot reach beyond the particle of time wherein he speaks:
now, this one solitary moment, gleaming out of the eternity before
us only to be lost in the eternity behind us--this now is the
accepted time; this Now and no other is the moment of salvation!"
Most of the men recognized the marquis; some near the entrance saw
only Malcolm clearing the way: marquis or fisher, it was all the
same when souls were at stake: they crowded with one consent to
oppose their exit: yet another chance they must have, whether they
would or not These men were in the mood to give--not their own
--but those other men's bodies to be burnt on the poorest chance
of saving their souls from the everlasting burnings.
Malcolm would have been ready enough for a fight, had he and the
marquis been alone, but the presence of Lady Florimel put it out
of the question.
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