"Not a stone did she put over your head, and the strumpets of your
sisters did not tend your grave. Why you were not eaten by worms I can't
know."

On a sudden Towy shouted: "See an old parson do I. Is not this the day
of rising up? Awful if the Big Man mistakes us for the Church. Not been
inside a church have I, drop dead and blind, since I was born."

None gave heed to his cry, for the sound of the bargaining was most
high. "Dissenters," he bellowed, "what right have Church heathens to mix
with us? The Fiery Oven is their home."

The people were dismayed. Their number being small, the Church folk were
pressed one upon the other; and after they were thrown in a mass against
the gate of the Chariot House the Dissenters spread themselves easily as
far as the door of the Crooked Stairway.

"Now, boys capel," Towy-Watkins said, "we will have a sermon. Fine will
Welsh be in the nostrils of the Big Preacher. Pray will I at once."

The prayer ended, and one struck his tuning-fork; and while the
congregation moaned and lamented, a tall man, who wore the habit of a
preacher and whose yellow beard--the fringe of which was singed--hung
over his breast like a sheaf of wheat, passed through the way of the
door of the Stairway, and as he walked towards the Judgment Hall, some
said: "Fair day, Respected," and some said: "Similar he is to
Towy-Watkins."

"Shut your throats, colts," Towy rebuked the people. "Say after me: 'Go
round my backhead, Satan.'"