The chairman answered curtly:

"If the pastor did not respect the eldership sufficiently to advise it, I think it can hardly be expected of him to advise the congregation; or that the congregation would take his advice if he gave it."

The face of Hampstead whitened, and his muscles strained in his body.

This was really a mean speech of Elder Burbeck, yet he did not wish to be mean. He meant only to be just—to All People's church. His zeal on the one hand, his prejudgment upon the other, had led him to consider no procedure as proper that did not look immediately to the hurling down of the usurper.

"The pastor is not at issue," he concluded with heat almost unholy. "It is the good name of All People's that is at issue."

The face of Hampstead whitened a little more.

"But," persisted Brother Hinton; "let our pastor make his answer to the charges, that we may determine for ourselves what is the issue."

Enough had been said. John Hampstead stood tall and statue-like in the aisle, with the manner of a man about to speak the very soul out of himself, if need be. Before this manner, Elder Burbeck recoiled a little, as he knew he must, if this man asserted himself. For one despairing moment the good man felt that the cause of righteousness was lost. But something in the manner of the minister himself reassured the Elder. The man's soul went back a little from his eyes,—receded, as it were, like a tide, while he turned toward the congregation and in kindly, patient tones began:

"I cannot speak to charges, Brother Hinton! None are presented against me. It was for this reason that I refused to appear before the eldership. This resolution is not a charge. It is an assault. There is no proposal on the part of this Board to find out if I am guilty of anything. They propose a course which assumes my guilt to be of no importance. I tell you that it is of all importance.

"Perhaps, brethren, I have been too reticent. Perhaps the peculiar circumstances out of which this congregation has grown during the five years of my ministry have made it difficult for all of us to see aright or to act aright in this trying situation. I stand before you to some extent a victim of misplaced confidence in you. I was surprised that the newspapers should inflame public opinion against me. I was surprised that a Court of Justice should hold me to answer for this improbable crime. Yet, during all these, to me, cataclysmic, happenings of the past week, I have looked to the loyalty of this church with an assurance that never wavered; an assurance that in the light of what is happening to-night seems more tragic than anything else. I never had a thought that you would not stand by me, at least until I was found to be guilty."