‘He thinks only of those wretched miners and shantymen of his.’
She looked at me with wonder in her eyes, and said gently, ‘And are they not Christ’s too?’
And I found no word to reply.
It was nearing ten o’clock, and I was wondering how the fight was going, and hoping that Mrs. Mavor would not be needed, when the door opened, and old man Nelson and Sandy, the latter much battered and ashamed, came in with the word for Mrs. Mavor.
‘I will come,’ she said simply. She saw me preparing to accompany her, and asked, ‘Do you think you can leave him?’
‘He will do quite well in Nelson’s care.’
‘Then I am glad; for I must take my little one with me. I did not put her to bed in case I should need to go, and I may not leave her.’
We entered the church by the back door, and saw at once that even yet the battle might easily be lost.
Some miners had just come from Slavin’s, evidently bent on breaking up the meeting, in revenge for the collapse of the dance, which Slavin was unable to enjoy, much less direct. Craig was gallantly holding his ground, finding it hard work to keep his men in good humour, and so prevent a fight, for there were cries of ‘Put him out! Put the beast out!’ at a miner half drunk and wholly outrageous.
The look of relief that came over his face when Craig caught sight of us told how anxious he had been, and reconciled me to Mrs. Mavor’s singing. ‘Thank the good God,’ he said, with what came near being a sob, ‘I was about to despair.’