only to do her justice, and show to the world that you are an honorable
man. She is my sister; and unless you keep your promise, solemnly made
to her, I will follow you to the end of the earth, and make you the
scorned of men. Mark this well: it is the haunted soul of the hypocrite
that burns him through life; that makes him a very torment to himself."
The stranger returned to the inn, where he paced the room for nearly an
hour, and then retired for the night.

The bells rang on the following morning, and the good women of Nyack
wended their way to and had nearly filled every pew in the church of
great progressive ideas. The choir sung one hymn, and then sung another.
But no pastor came. There was something wrong, evidently. Hope and faith
were enjoined by a few. Some watched the door, others the pulpit.
Whispers succeeded wonder, and murmurs took the place of curiosity. The
church was clearly without a pastor; and what was a church to do under
such circumstances? At length the whole congregation got into a state of
profound agitation. What was the matter? where was the pastor? would'nt
somebody speak? These and similar questions were on every tongue. It
was suddenly discovered that the Chapmans were also absent.

An indignant female got up and proposed that some one "go for" the
Chapmans, and make them explain what it all meant. Another, equally
indignant, took a more sensible view of things. "If there's to be no
service," said she, "I'm going home to read my Bible in quiet." And she
left the church, followed by the rest of the congregation. And as nobody
explained, of course every one had his or her own reason for this
singular turn in the spiritual affairs of the new church. There was no
getting over the fact that the new church had been brought to a stand
still. To be plain about the matter, the Reverend Warren Holbrook had
put his great progressive ideas into practice during the night by