"I will tell you. It is because God has revealed to me that you are destined to play a great part in the history of this rising. It was by no chance that you came that night to the opium den. It was by no chance, it was not entirely by your resourcefulness and skill, that you escaped with your life. It was no chance which drew you to the house in Taunton Square, no chance which sent you here to Cripps Court. "The part you are to play, God has not yet revealed to me; but I will tell you what I believe that part to be. The army I command may be counted by many millions, but leader there is only one--myself. And the battle--which shall be called Armageddon--the battle which shall set Labour upon the throne as Lord and Ruler of this land--that battle approaches, and in that battle I shall fall. If I fall, all falls, unless God raise up a second in command who shall be the leader of the people after I am gone. That leader I believe you are marked out to be. That is why I dare not kill you; that is why I am going to do the maddest thing a sane man ever did. "Of my own will I set you free to go from here unharmed. As yet you are not with us. As yet God has not made known His will to you. As yet, though I have twice appealed to you to throw in your lot with us, you have resisted my entreaty. But I am not dismayed. Once again I shall come to you. Once again I shall appeal to you, and that third time I shall give you such assured proof of the triumph of our cause, that after that third time I shall need to appeal to you no more. The victory will be won. Our cause, the people's cause, God's cause, you will, on that third appeal, espouse. Of my own accord I set you free." As he spoke these last words, he stooped to unfasten my bonds, and, in doing so, looked me for a moment in the eyes. Once again a dream-tableau seemed to shape itself before me. I saw myself--as one might see another person--in some dark place underground. By my side stood the Dumpling, and far back in the shadow was another man. In my dream I could not see the face of the third man. I could see the Dumpling's face, and upon it was a look of fiendish triumph as he pointed me to the third man. But I could see my own face, and on my own face, as it was turned to the face of the third man, was such a look of incredulous horror as, waking or dreaming, I shall never see upon human face again. Then the dream passed. I was free of my bonds, and the Dumpling was holding open the door. "Good-bye, Rissler!" he said. "We shall meet again and soon; and that meeting will mean great things for both of us." Without a word, without so much as a "Thank you" or a "Good day," I passed out, like one who walks in his sleep. I could think of nothing save the unseen face of the third man in my dream, and of the incredulous horror which had been upon my own face on realising who that third man was. CHAPTER XXX. FORTY MILES IN A PERAMBULATOR!