"The people!" exclaimed a startled member of the Amalgamated Unions. "What d'yer mean by the 'representative of the people'? _We_ are the representatives of the people. We _are_ the people!" "You?" replied Ambrose scornfully, sweeping the assembly with his eye and returning finally with a disconcerting gaze to the man who spoke, "you smug, easy, well-fed, well-clad, well-to-do in your little way, self-satisfied band of Pharisees, _you_ the people of the earth! Are you the poor, are you the meek, the hungry, the persecuted? You are the comfortable, complacent _bourgeoisie_ of labourdom. You can never inherit the Kingdom of Christ on earth. Outside your gates, despised of all, stand His chosen people." There was a low, rolling murmur of approval, growing in volume before it died away, but it rose not within the chamber but from the road outside. "Mr Tubes," whispered the introducer of the deputation uneasily, "give the word, sir. Shall we have this man put out?" "No, no," muttered Tubes, with his eyes fixed on the window and turning slightly pale; "wait a minute. Who are those outside?" The Member of Parliament looked out; others were looking too, and for a moment not only their own business was forgotten, but the indomitable priest's outspoken challenge passed unheeded in a curious contemplation of his following. At that period the sight was a new one in the streets of London, though afterwards it became familiar enough, not only in the Capital, but to the inhabitants of every large town and city throughout the land.