"He who would have bread let him pray for it," she cried out. "Surely it will come to him who asketh."
A loud voice greeted her words.
"We have asked, and they have given us stones for bread," said a gaunt man.
"Because ye have asked amiss," she answered. "Down on your knees and I will pray for you."
A moment's hesitation, then there was dead silence, and that crowd fell down as if moved by some invisible power.
"Repeat what I say, after me," she cried. "Our Father."
And so through that blessed prayer, the like of which there is none other, these poor wretches, the outcast of the earth, followed her, repeating the words, some with sobs, some still cursing between the words.
As the Amen died out, Knight stood beside her.
"Open the gate and let me in to them," she said, "and then do as I bid you."
She took a great white loaf from the basket he had brought.