‘Don’t laugh! Don’t any of you laugh; for as sure as I live it was an angel stood in the room and spoke to me. There was a light such as none of you ever saw, and the angel stood in the midst of it. And he said to me: “Listen, whilst I reveal to you the truth, that you may know where you are and what you are; and this is done for a great purpose.” And I fell down on my knees; but never a word could I have spoken. Then the angel said: “You are passing through a state of punishment. You, and all the poor among whom you live; all those who are in suffering of body and darkness of mind, were once rich people, with every blessing the world can bestow, with every opportunity of happiness in yourselves and of making others happy. Because you made an ill use of your wealth, because you were selfish and hard-hearted and oppressive and sinful in every kind of indulgence—therefore after death you received the reward of wickedness. This life you are now leading is that of the damned; this place to which you are confined is Hell! There is no escape for you. From poor you shall become poorer; the older you grow the lower shall you sink in want and misery; at the end there is waiting for you, one and all, a death in abandonment and despair. This is Hell—Hell—Hell!”’ His voice had risen in pitch, and the last cry was so terrifying that Pennyloaf fled to be out of hearing. She reached the house to which her visit was, and in the dark passage leaned for a moment against the wall, trembling all over. Then she began to ascend the stairs. At Mrs. Candy’s door she knocked gently. There was at first no answer, but when she had knocked again, a strange voice that she did not recognise asked ‘Who’s that?’ It seemed to come from low down, as if the speaker were lying on the floor. ‘It’s me,’ she replied, again trembling, she knew not with what fear. ‘Mrs. Hewett—Pennyloaf.’ ‘Are you alone?’ She bent down, listening eagerly. ‘Who’s that speakin’?’ ‘Are you alone?’ Strange; the voice was again different, very feeble, a thick whisper. ‘Yes, there’s nobody else. Can I come in?’ There was a shuffling sound, then the key turned in the lock, Pennyloaf entered, and found herself in darkness. She shrank back. ‘Who’s there? Is it you, mother? Is it you, Stephen?’ Some one touched her, at the same time shutting the door; and the voice whispered: ‘Penny—it’s me—Bob.’ She uttered a cry, stretching out her hands. A head was leaning against her, and she bent down to lay hers against it. ‘O Bob! What are you doin’ here? Why are you in the dark? What’s the matter, Bob?’ ‘I’ve had an accident, Penny. I feel awful bad. Your mother’s gone out to buy a candle. Have they been coming after me?’ ‘Yes, yes. But I didn’t know you was here. I came to ask if they knew where you was. O Bob! what’s happened to you? Why are you lyin’ there, Bob?’ She had folded her arms about him, and held his face to hers, sobbing, kissing him.