“I tell you, good people,” he said, in his ringing, manly voice, “that this cross was set up by early Christians. Beneath it there lies buried the ancient stone which was worshipped in heathen times. This is no idol, but a witness to the truth.” “Don’t heed the Vicar! Obey the word of God!” shouted Waghorn. “Break it in pieces like a potter’s vessel!” Again the contagion of the fanatic’s excitement spread, and elicited yet fiercer shouts of “Ay! Pull it down! Break it in pieces! Remember Smithfield!” Gabriel saw that a serious riot would ensue unless action were quickly taken. Shouting an order for silence, which was promptly obeyed by the soldiers, he said to the Vicar, “Sir, ’tis true enough that Parliament hath ordered the destruction of images and crosses. In many places the people truly did bow down to them. We wish that God alone should be glorified, and we dread homage to symbols. I fear that it will be my duty to carry out the Parliamentary order.” “In truth, sir,” pleaded the Vicar, “I assure you that I dislike acts of homage to the cross as much as you do. I merely plead with you for our right to keep the ensign of our faith. What is that blue banner yonder officer holds?” “’Tis the banner of the Parliament, sir,” said Gabriel. “Well, sir, you do not worship your flag, but you would not lightly part with it. That cross, sir, is my flag, and, unless your looks belie you, I think you will refuse to destroy the witness of _our common faith._” Gabriel had listened with respect and deep attention to this earnest appeal. The long years of controversy and strife had accentuated every religious difference. Hard words had been remorselessly hurled on both sides; but here was a man who boldly appealed to “_our common faith_.” In a sudden flash he seemed to realise how overwhelmingly great was this faith they shared. All lesser differences were dwarfed. He no longer saw the stone cross, the buff-coated men-at-arms and the villagers--he saw instead a jeering rabble, and Roman soldiers and the Eternal Revelation of God’s great love to the world. All that he had known from childhood, and honestly striven to carry into practice, was flooded by one of those inspiring gleams which make us understand how much nearer is the Unseen than the Seen; so that for the time there seemed to him nothing in the whole universe save that perfect Revelation of Love. He was recalled from his Mount of Transfiguration by the urgent need of help down below. Like a false note in a symphony, Waghorn’s voice broke the silence which, to his violent zeal, had seemed unendurable. “Don’t heed him, Captain! Don’t heed him! Down with the accursed idol! So let all Thine enemies perish, O Lord!” Gabriel strode towards him.