The most difficult point in this connection was his feeling that the man was quite sincere in his belief, that upon him the spirit of prophecy had descended. He felt sure that the man was unaware of the existence of any motive in his own heart apart from the desire to utter a warning and a call to repentance to the people of the world, as Jonah the prophet, had done to the people of Nineveh. That fact, Wesley perceived, made it a matter of great difficulty both to silence Pritchard, and to hold him up as a charlatan. He was indeed greatly perplexed in mind as he rode down the valley path leading to the Mill. CHAPTER XI Wesley could not, of course, know that Pritchard was at that time in the Mill awaiting his arrival. But it was the case that the water-finder, learning that the coming of Mr. Wesley was looked for during the afternoon, had gone to the Mill early and had rejected the suggestion made by the blacksmith and Jake Pullsford, that he should not appear in the presence of Mr. Wesley until he was sent for. He was almost indignant at the hint conveyed to him in an ambiguous way by Hal Holmes, that it would show better taste if he were to remain away for the time being. “Take my word for 't, Dick, you'll be brought face to face with him soon enow,” said Hal. “You'll be wishful that you had ne'er been born or thought of. Mr. Wesley is meek, but he isn't weak, and 'tis the meek ones that's the hardest to answer when the time comes, and it always comes too soon. Before your Monday comes you'll be wishful to hide away and calling on the mountains to cover ye.” “List to me, Hal; there's naught that will say nay to me when my mind is made up, and go to face Mr. Wesley I shall,” Dick had replied. The blacksmith folded his big bare arms and looked at him with curiosity from head to foot. “A change has come o'er a good many of us since Mr. Wesley began to preach, but what's all our changes alongside yours, Dick Pritchard?” he said, shaking his head as though he relinquished this task of solving the problem which had been suggested to him. “Why, you was used to fear and tremble at the thin noise of your own voice, Dick Pritchard. With these ears I have heard you make an apology for saying 'Thank ye,' on the score that you were too bold. But now you are for rushing headlong to meet the man that you scarce dare lift your hat to a month or two agone.” “I hadn't learned then all that there's in me now, Hal,” replied the water-finder. “I always did despise myself, being unmindful that to despise myself was to do despite to Heaven. Doesn't it stand to reason, Hal, that the greater a man thinks himself, the greater is the honour he does to his Maker? I think twice as much of God since I came to see what a man He made in me.”