“It has one.”
“There!” cried Saltren, “now nothing will ever shake my faith. When the devil strives to defeat the purposes of Heaven, it is because he fears those purposes. My solemn and sincere conviction is——” He lowered his voice, but though low it shook with emotion. “My belief is that the book I saw was the Everlasting Gospel. John saw an angel flying in heaven having that book in his right hand, but it was not then communicated to man. The time was not ripe. Now, at last, towards the end of the ages, that book has been cast down, and its purport disclosed.”
“You didn’t happen to see the angel?” asked Welsh sneeringly.
“I—I am not sure, I saw something. Indeed, there no doubt was an angel flying, but my eyes were blinded with the extraordinary light, and my mind has not yet sufficiently recovered for me to recollect all the particulars of the vision. But this I can tell you, for I know it. Although I did not get hold of the book, its contents are written in fire in my brain. That book of the Everlasting Gospel declares that the age of privilege is at an end, the distinctions between rich and poor; noble and common, are at an end. This has been hidden from the world, because the world was not ready to receive it. Now the time is come, and I am the humble instrument chosen for announcing these good tidings to men. I care not if, like Samson, I be crushed as I take hold of the pillars, and bow myself, and bring the House of Lords down.”
“Well,” said Welsh, “if you can work that line in the chapel, well and good. I keep to my province, and that is the manganese. Why, Condy’s fluid, I fancy, is permanganate of potash—I can lug that in somehow.”
“Ah!” said Mrs. Saltren, who was becoming impatient at having been left out of the conversation, “at the park they thought a deal about Condy’s fluid.”
“I can manage it in this way,” said her brother, rubbing his hands. “That disinfectant has manganese as a constituent. His lordship, by stopping the manganese mine, cuts off a source of health, a deodorising and disinfecting stream from entering the homes of sickness, and the haunts of fever. Who can say how many lives may be sacrificed by the stopping of Wheal Julia? I’ll bring in Condy’s fluid with effect. What else is manganese used for?”
“Bleaching, I believe,” said Mrs. Saltren.
“Ah!” said Mr. Welsh, “that can be worked in also, and I’ll pull old Isabelle of Castile in by the ears as well. She vowed she would not change her smock till a certain city she was besieging had capitulated, and as that city held out three months, judge the colour of her linen. We are all, I presume, to wear Isabelle shirts—or rather cuffs and collars—and use Isabelle sheets and towels, and eat off Isabelle tablecloths, and the ministers of the Established Church to preach in Isabelle surplices, because, forsooth, the supply of manganese is withheld wherewith to whiten them.”
“Well, it does seem wrong,” said Mrs. Saltren.