“What is a minister and God?” she said; “and do ladies and gentlemen want any thing? I thought they’d every thing they wanted, Mr. Daniel.”
“Oh!” cried Daniel, “you must be off, you know. They’ll be coming in a minute, and they’d be shocked to see a ragged little heathen like you. This is the pulpit, where the minister stands and preaches to ’em; and there are the pews, where they sit to listen to him, or to go to sleep, may be; and that’s the organ to play music to their singing. There, I’ve told you every thing, and you must never come again; never.”
“Mr. Daniel,” said Jessica, “I don’t know nothing about it. Isn’t there a dark little corner somewhere that I could hide in?”
“No, no,” interrupted Daniel impatiently; “we couldn’t do with such a little heathen, with no shoes or bonnet on. Come, now, it’s only a quarter to the time, and somebody will be here in a minute. Run away, do!”
Jessica retraced her steps slowly to the crimson door, casting many a longing look backwards; but Mr. Daniel stood at the end of the aisle, frowning upon her whenever she glanced behind. She gained the lobby at last, but already some one was approaching the chapel door, and beneath the lamp at the gate stood one of her natural enemies, a policeman. Her heart beat fast, but she was quickwitted, and in another instant she spied a place of concealment behind one of the doors, into which she crept for safety until the policeman passed on upon his beat.
The congregation began to arrive quickly. She heard the rustling of silk dresses, and she could see the gentlemen and ladies pass by the niche between the door and the post. Once she ventured to stretch out a thin little finger and touch a velvet mantle as the wearer of it swept by, but no one caught her in the act, or suspected her presence behind the door. Mr. Daniel, she could see, was very busy ushering the people to their seats; but there was a startled look lingering upon his face, and every now and then he peered anxiously into the outer gloom and darkness, and even once called to the policeman to ask if he had seen a ragged child hanging about. After a while the organ began to sound, and Jessica crouched down in her hiding-place, listening entranced to the sweet music. She could not tell what made her cry, but the tears came so rapidly that it was of no use to rub the corners of her eyes with her hard knuckles; so she lay down upon the ground and buried her face in her hands and wept without restraint. When the singing was over she could only catch a confused sound of a voice speaking. The lobby was empty now, and the crimson doors closed. The policeman also had walked on. This was the moment to escape. She raised herself from the ground with a feeling of weariness and sorrow; and thinking sadly of the light, and warmth, and music that were within the closed doors, she stepped out into the cold and darkness of the streets, and loitered homeward with a heavy heart.