"In Heaven's name," I said, "what are you doing here?" He looked at me with an expression of excruciating pain on his face, and said:
"I have travelled some thousands of miles in order to be alone; if you have any kindness, any pity, leave me."
"Pardon me," I said, "for intruding."
That night the Ex-Club invited him to take part in their deliberations. He refused, and his manner showed that he considered the invitation an insult. I had known this man as a brilliant orator, a religious leader, the champion of a sect. In a city across the sea I had sat as a barelegged boy on an upturned barrel, part of an immense crowd, listening to the flow of his oratory. Next day he left the bunk-house. Some weeks afterward I found him on a curbstone, preaching to whoever of the pedestrians would listen.
At the close of his address, I introduced myself again. He took me to his new lodging, and I put the questions that filled my mind. For answer he gave me the House of Commons Blue Book, which explained the charge hanging over him. Almost daily, for weeks, I heard him on his knees proclaim his innocence of the unmentionable crime with which he was charged. After some weeks of daily association, he said to me:
"I believe you are sent of God to guide me, and I am prepared to take your advice."
My advice was ready. He turned pale as I told him to pack his trunk and take the next ship for England.
"Face the storm like a man!" I urged, and he said:
"It will kill me, but I will do it."