"No," panted Amos. "I'm fleeing from evil."
"Then stand right where you are."
The tambourines began to beat furiously. A lassie started to sing with a volume of sweet sound which came uncannily from her tiny throat. She fixed upon Amos concerned and pitying eyes. The woman with the dark veil did not appear from her fastness.
Amos stood close to the captain, who, after another song had been sung, invited all who wished to be saved to come with him to the rooms of the Army. Apparently Amos was the only one interested in this important matter and him he led away, leaving the others to conduct the meeting. In a bare little room furnished with benches, a portable organ, and a few printed Scripture texts, he bade Amos sit down.
"Now, Brother, what's your trouble?"
Amos was for the moment speechless, the joys of confidence being new to him, but when he began to speak, he could not stop. He told of his youth and his uncle and Ellen and of his buying books and of the old Kloster.
"It was intended that I should found a conventual order."
The captain did not understand.
"A what?"
"A conventual order. We were to gather in others to live a life of meditation."