It was curious enough that Mr. Wallace’s curricle came in sight of the mountain-path which led off from the road to the Ranters’ place of meeting, just when Armstrong and Mr. Hollins were turning into it. They stopped at the sound of the carriage.
“I wish,” said Mr. Hollins, “that you would allow me to drive Mrs. Wallace, while you go with our good friend to the church he likes best.”
“Make haste either way,” said Armstrong, “for we are full late, I am afraid.”
In a moment the gentlemen had changed places, and Mr. Wallace was striding along the rough path, trying to keep up with his vigorous old friend.[friend.]
They were all full late. The silence, preparatory to opening the service, was so profound, that Mr.[Mr.] Wallace was taken by surprise, when a sudden turn brought them into the presence of a thousand people, seated in ranks upon the grass, in a recess between two hills. A few idle boys were playing hide-and-seek among the furze: bushes on the ridge of the hill, and some spectators walked slowly round the outskirts of the congregation; but all besides was as still as in a church at the time of prayer. It seemed as if the service had been delayed for Armstrong; for as soon as he and his companion had taken the seat which had evidently been reserved, a movement took place in the waggon which served for a pulpit, and a man stood up to address the assembled hearers.
This man explained that owing to the illness of the preacher who usually conducted the service that duty devolved upon himself, who had hitherto taken only a very humble part in the offices of the day. He trusted that the word of grace would be acceptable, from whatever lips it came; and had, therefore, taken upon him the preacher’s office, rather than dismiss them without their accustomed worship.
“This person,” whispered Armstrong, “is more fit to preach than many a trained clergyman, if I may judge by what I have heard. He generally acts only as clerk; but I once heard an address from him, which makes me very glad of an opportunity of hearing him again.”
Mr. Wallace was in too much astonishment to reply, for this man was Paul.
This remarkable fact being once established, nothing very surprising followed; for Mr. Wallace knew enough of Paul to suppose that his service would be, as it proved, very good. He only could not help guessing what the subject of his sermon would be, and hoping that his text would be, “Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth.” It was, however, one from which Paul could preach with more propriety, “Thou shalt not steal.”
It was now Armstrong’s turn to do something which appeared strange. He started when the text was given out, and listened with extraordinary eagerness for some time. At length, when the preacher began to describe the pangs of conscience which disturb the thief, even while no human eye has seen, and no human heart suspected, his guilt, Armstrong rose, mounted the waggon, took his stand beside the preacher, and looked again and again round the assembled hearers, shading his eyes with his hand, and gazing as if he would read every countenance.[countenance.] Paul himself paused for an instant, and looked surprised; but probably supposed, like Mr. Wallace, that it was merely a whim of the old man’s. It was no whim; and the accidental choice of this text and subject was a fortunate circumstance for Armstrong’s peace of mind; for he was now firmly convinced that none of those with whom he was accustomed to worship on the Lord’s-day, were those who had invaded his repose and his property by night. Prejudiced as he was against all that was done, and against everybody concerned in the iron-works, he had always suspected that the thieves came from a different quarter, and that there were persons better informed than any of Mr. Wallace’s labourers of the extent of his wealth and the place where it was deposited.