The hymn next door had ceased, the atheist was hunting up a reference, and the words of the pallid man's peroration resounded startlingly in the temporary silence: “In that day when the sovereign people's will is law, when the weakest and the strongest shall share alike in the plenteous bounty of Providence, no longer shall the poor be mangled beneath the Juggernaut car of wealth, no longer shall your daughters be bound to the rich man's chariot-wheels and whirled shrieking into an infamy worse than death, no longer shall the poor man's soul burn with hell fire at the rich man's desecration of the once pure woman that he loves, no more rottenness, foulness, stench, iniquity, but the earth shall rest in purity, securely folded in the angel wings of peace!” He waved his arms in a gesture of dismissal, turned his back on the crowd, and sat down exhausted on the little wooden bench that had been his platform. The crowd gradually moved away, some laughing idly, others reflectively chewing the cud of their Barmecide meal. Morland pointed a gold-mounted cane at the late speaker. “Who and what is this particular brand of damned fool?” Jimmie checked with a glance a working-man who had issued from the inner ring and was passing by, and translated Morland's question into soberer English. “Him?” replied the working-man. “That's Daniel Stone, sir. Some people say he's cracked, but he always has something good to say and I like listening to him.” “What does he do when he is n't talking?” asked Jimmie. “Snatches a nap and a mouthful of food, I should say, sir,” said the man, with a laugh. He caught Jimmie's responsive smile, touched his cap, like the downtrodden slave that he was, and went on his way. Jimmie glanced round for Morland and saw him striding off rapidly. He ran after him. “What is the hurry?” “That damned man--” “Which? The one I was talking to? You surely did n't object--?” “Of course not. The other--Daniel Stone--” “Well, what of him?” “He's a dangerous lunatic. I have heard of him. Why the devil did you want me to make an exhibition of myself among this scum?” Jimmie stared. Morland broke into a laugh and held out his hand. “Never mind. The beast got on my nerves with his chariot wheels and his desecration of maidens and the rest of it. I must be off. Good-bye.” Jimmie watched him disappear through the gate and turned back towards the groups. The pallid man was still sitting on his bench; a few children hung round and scanned him idly. Presently he rose and tucked his bench under his arm, and walked slowly away from the scene of his oratory. His burning eyes fixed themselves on Jimmie as he passed by. Jimmie accosted him. “I have been greatly interested in your address.” “I saw you with another of the enemies of mankind. You are a gentleman, I suppose?” “I hope so,” said Jimmie, smiling. “Then I have nothing to do with you,” retorted the man, with an angry gesture. “I hate you and all your class.”