She rose to her feet, tried to find words to express at once gratitude and amazement. She choked, swallowed hard, felt slightly faint and sat down again abruptly. The emotion of the evening had been too much for her. Never before in her whole life had Mrs. Eames been unable to express herself in fluent and ready speech. But then she had never before come face to face with a miracle. The people cheered again, hoarsely, but as fervently as ever. This time they felt that they were cheering themselves. The £1 2s. 6d. represented the subscription of the fishermen to the fund. The fifty pounds came from Hinton. Chapter VI The meeting in the schoolroom lasted far longer than any meeting in Hailey Compton had ever lasted before. After all possible speeches had been made and votes of thanks proposed to everyone who could be supposed to deserve such a compliment and to a good many people who could not, there remained the business of enrolling the performers for the pageant. This was difficult, for almost everyone present wanted to take part, and the boys, successfully kept out until the speeches were over, managed after that to force their way in and added greatly to the confusion. It was long after ten o'clock when Mrs. Eames reached home. She hoped but scarcely expected to find her husband waiting for her. Mrs. Eames was a lady who delighted in talking over everything she did at great length, and she had no objection to sitting up until the early hours of the morning. Her husband knew this, as he knew most things about her after twelve years of married life. He disliked talking, which seemed to him a vain amusement, and hated sitting up late. His plan, on the occasions of evening meetings, was to go to bed about nine o'clock and then pretend to be asleep. On the evening of the pageant meeting he really was asleep before his wife came home. This did not altogether save him. Mrs. Eames woke him. It was absolutely necessary to her to discuss the astonishing events of the evening with someone. "Dearest one," she said, shaking him gently. He groaned, turned over and buried his face in the pillow. "Darling Timothy," she said, "you must wake up for just one minute. I want to tell you what happened at the meeting this evening." She shook him again, not so gently as at first, and he opened his eyes. "The whole village," she said, "was wildly enthusiastic about the pageant, and James Hinton has promised fifty pounds." The vicar heard her and was almost startled into complete wakefulness. But the mind, though it works erratically, does work during the interval of half consciousness between waking and sleeping. What Mrs. Eames said was entirely incredible. The vicar took it for granted that she could not really have said it. He was, he supposed, dreaming a dream rather more absurd than most dreams are. "Yes, yes," he murmured, "how nice."