'Those things which you ask I cannot give; they are not Mine. I have not money, nor money's worth. There is none amongst you that is so poor as I am.'
'Then what can you give?'
'Those who would know what I can give must follow Me. The way is hard, and the journey long. At the end is the peace which is not of this world.'
'Where do you go?'
'Unto My Father.'
'Who is your father?'
'Those that know Me know also My Father.'
Turning as he spoke, He began to walk in the direction of Hyde Park. Some of the people, apparently supposing that His injunction to follow Him was to be understood in a literal sense, formed in a straggling band behind Him. At first there were not many. His movement, which was unexpected, had taken the bulk of the crowd by surprise. For some seconds it was not generally realised that He had commenced to pass away. When all became aware of what was happening, and it was understood that the mysterious Stranger was going from them, another wave of excitement passed through the throng, and something like a rush was made to keep within sight of Him. The farther they went, the greater became the number of those that went with Him. But it was observed that none came within actual touch. He walked with people in front, behind, on either side, yet alone. He occupied an empty space in their very midst, with no one within six or seven feet, moving neither quickly nor slowly, with head bowed, and hands hanging loose at His sides, seeming to see none of those that went with Him; and it was as though an unseen barrier was round about Him which even the more presumptuous of His attendants could not pass.
Along Piccadilly, past the shops, past Green Park, the procession went, growing larger and larger as it progressed. Persons, wondering what was the cause of the to-do, asked questions; then fell in with the others, curious to learn what the issue of the affair would be. Traffic in the road became congested. Vehicles could not proceed above a walking pace, because of the people who hemmed them in. Nor did their occupants, or their drivers, seem loath to linger with the throng. The police adapted their mood to that of the crowd. They saw men and women pouring out of restaurants and public-houses to join the Stranger's retinue, and were, for the most part, content to keep pace with it, keeping a watchful eye for what might be the possible upshot of the singular proceedings.
At Hyde Park Corner the Stranger stopped, and it could then be seen to what huge proportions the throng had grown. The whole open space was filled with people, and when, with the Stranger's, their advance was stayed, pedestrians and vehicles seemed mixed in inextricable confusion. Probably the large majority of those present had but the faintest notion of what had brought them there. In obedience to a sudden impulse of the gregarious instinct they had joined the crowd because the crowd was there to join.