I may, some day, sift the grain from the chaff, and make a
book. There is certainly fact enough there, from which to create a
thrilling story.
On the day of Aster's rescue, the magistrate came to Roland.
'I understand,' he said, 'that one of these robbers is at large; the
fellow who goes masked as a Wesleyan preacher.'
'Yes; he is holding "revival" meetings at the Don. I shall go with
you and your _posse_, if you wish it.'
When they reached the church door, a little church looking upon the
Don River, they found a great number of people assembled. On enquiry
they learnt that the Rev. Mr. Jonas had not yet arrived, but that he
was expected every minute. Roland stood behind the door, and the
magistrate and the constables mixed for the nonce with the crowd.
Presently a murmur went round.
'Mr. Jonas is coming;' and peeping out, Roland saw that saintly
individual in a pung, sitting in pious state beside the foremost
class-leader of the church. He bowed cordially to all as he drew
near, and as he passed through each knot of people he gave some such
salutation as:
'I hope God is blessing you,' or 'Is the good work improving?' or
'Shall many declare for Emmanuel to-day?'
He passed into the pulpit, and stood there, his eyes closed, while
he uttered some silent prayers.
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