"Poor old dad!" he sighed, as he finished his supper, "it is hard for
him to see his congregation dwindled away to a mere handful, while the
chapels around him arc crowded to overflowing. By Jove! there must be
something wrong somewhere."

As usual after supper he followed Betto into the old kitchen, where the
servants were assembled for supper, and where Shanw was again holding
forth, to her own delight and Betto's disgust, on the coming glories of
the Sassiwn.

"To-morrow evening will be the first meeting."

"Will it be in the field?" asked Cardo.

"Oh, no, Ser; the first is in the chapel always, and no strangers are
there. Essec Powell will have to shut up his old books for a few days
now, and poor Valmai will have rest. Marged Hughes says she is reading
to him for hours every day, but once she can get out of his sight he
forgets all about her, and goes on reading himself."

"When does he prepare his sermons?" said Cardo.

"Prepare his sermons!" said Shanw indignantly. "Do you think Essec
Powell would write his sermon out like a clergyman and read it out like
a book? No, indeed! Straight from the 'brist'--that's how Essec
Powell preaches!"

"What time is the first meeting next day?"