"Ay, sir, and thank you for it. But that went into my stomick, and what I wanted was medicine for my soul. You never said a prayer by me. You never urged me to repentance for my bad life, and you let me go out of the world with all my sins about me." "And I, sir," said another, thrusting himself before Mr. Hexworthy--"I was a young man, sir, going wild, and you never said a word to restrain me; never sent for me and gave me a bit of warning and advice which would have checked me. You just shrugged your shoulders and laughed, and said that a young chap like me must sow his wild oats." "And we," shouted the rest--"we were never taught by you anything at all." "Now this is really too bad," said the rector. "I preached twice every Sunday." "Oh, yes--right enough that. But precious little good it did when nothing came out of your heart, and all out of your pocket--and that you did give us was copied in your library. Why, sir, not one of your sermons ever did anybody a farthing of good." "We were your sheep," protested others, "and you let us wander where we would! You didn't seem to know yourself that there was a fold into which to draw us." "And we," said others, "went off to chapel, and all the good we ever got was from the dissenting minister--never a mite from you." "And some of us," cried out others, "went to the bad altogether, through your neglect. What did you care about our souls so long as your terriers were washed and combed, and your horses well groomed? You were a fisherman, but all you fished for were trout--not souls. And if some of us turned out well, it was in spite of your neglect--no thanks to you." Then some children's voices were raised: "Sir, you never taught us no Catechism, nor our duty to God and to man, and we grew up regular heathens." "That was your fathers' and mothers' duty." "But our fathers and mothers never taught us anything." "Come, this is intolerable," shouted Mr. Hexworthy. "Get out of the way, all of you. I can't be bothered with you now. I want to go in there." "You can't, parson! the door is shut, and you have not got your key." Mr. Hexworthy stood bewildered and irresolute. He rubbed his chin. "What the dickens am I to do?" he asked. Then the crowd closed about him, and thrust him back towards the gate. "You must go whither we send you," they said. I stood up to follow. It was curious to see a flock drive its shepherd, who, indeed, had never attempted to lead. I walked in the rear, and it seemed as though we were all swept forward as by a mighty wind. I did not gain my breath, or realise whither I was going, till I found myself in the slums of a large manufacturing town before a mean house such as those occupied by artisans, with the conventional one window on one side of the door and two windows above. Out of one of these latter shone a scarlet glow. The crowd hustled Mr. Hexworthy in at the door, which was opened by a hospital nurse.