'I don't think,' stammered Mr. Philipps, 'that you are entitled to say I am afraid--other than in the sense in which every true believer must be afraid when he finds himself standing on the threshold of the Presence.'
The 'General' was more candid.
'I fear, I fear! He knows me altogether! He knows I fear!'
Mr. Treadman endeavoured to return to his old assurance.
'Come, my friends, let us fear nothing. Whether we live we are the Lord's; or whether we die we are the Lord's, blessed be the name of the Lord! Let us rejoice and make glad, and enter into His presence with a song.'
Without knocking, turning the handle of the door in front of which they stood, he went into the room. Mr. Jebb went with him. After momentary hesitation, the Rev. Martin Philipps followed after. But 'General' Robins stayed without. It was as if he made an effort to force his feet across the threshold, and as if they refused him their obedience. The tall, rugged figure, clad in its bizarre uniform, trembled as with ague.
On a sudden one of the bands for whose existence he was responsible burst into blatant sound in the street beyond. As its inharmonious notes reached his ears, he leant forward and hid his face against the wall.
CHAPTER XVII
[THE MIRACLE OF HEALING]
The Stranger was seated, conversing with His two disciples. When the trio entered He was still. From the street came the noise of the Salvation Army band and the voices of the people. There was in the air the hum of a great multitude.