The men,in red jerseys and flat caps,held the poles of the torches in rest.When a gust of air blew the thick black smoke into their eyes,they patiently turned their heads.The sisters,conscious of the public gaze,stood with downcast eyes,their faces framed in grotesque poke-bonnets.
The Captain,a man of fifty,with the knotty,misshapen hands of a workman,stepped into the centre of the ring,took off his cap,and began to speak.
"Oh friends,we 'ave met 'ere again tonight to inquire after the safety of yer everlastin'souls.Yer pass by,thinkin'only of yer idle pleasures,w'en at any moment yer might be called to judgment by 'Im Who made us all equal in 'Is eyes.Yer pass by without 'earin'the sweet voice of Jesus callin'on yer to be saved this very minit.
For 'E is callin'yer to come an'be saved an'find salvation,as 'Ecalled me many years ago.I was then like yerselves,full of wickedness,an gloryin'in sin.But I 'eard the voice of 'Im Who died on the Cross,an'saw I was rushin''eadlong to 'ell.An''Is blood washed all my sins away,an'made me whiter than snow.Whiter than snow,friends--whiter than snow!An''E'll do the same fer you if yer will only come an'be saved.Oh,can't yer 'ear the voice of Jesus callin'to yer to come an'live with 'Im in 'Is blessed mansions in the sky?Oh,come tonight an'find salvation!"
His arms were outstretched in a passionate gesture of appeal,his rough voice vibrated with emotion,the common face flamed with the ecstasy of the fanatic.When he stopped for breath or wiped the sweat from his face,the Army spurred him on with cries of "Hallelujah!Amen!"as one pokes a dying fire.
The Lieutenant,who was the comedian of the company,met with a grin of approval as he faced the ring of torches like an actor facing the footlights,posing before the crowd that had gathered,flashing his vulgar conceit in the public eye.And he praised God in a song and dance,fitting his words to the latest craze of the music-hall:
"Oh!won't you come and join us?Jesus leads the throng,"snapping his fingers,grimacing,cutting capers that would have delighted the gallery of a theatre.
"Encore!"yelled the Push as he danced himself to a standstill,hot and breathless.
The rank and file came forward to testify.The men stammered in confusion,terrified by the noise they made,shrinking from the crowd as a timid bather shrinks from icy water,driven to this performance by an unseen power.But the women were shrill and self-possessed,scolding their hearers,demanding an instant surrender to the Army,whose advantages they pointed out with a glib fluency as if it were a Benefit Lodge.
Then the men knelt in the dust,the women covered their faces,and the Captain began to pray.His voice rose in shrill entreaty,mixed with the cries of the shopmen and the noise of the streets.
The spectators,familiar with the sight,listened in nonchalance,stopping to watch the group for a minute as they would look into a shop window.
The exhibition stirred no religious feeling in them,for their minds,with the tenacity of childhood,associated religion with churches,parsons and hymn-books.
The Push grew restless,divided between a desire to upset the meeting and fear of the police.
"Well I used ter think a funeral was slow,"remarked Chook,losing patience,and he stepped behind Jonah.
"'Ere,look out!"yelled Jonah the next minute,as,with a push from Chook,he collided violently with one of the soldiers and fell into the centre of the ring.
"'E shoved me,"cried Jonah as he got up,pointing with an injured air to the grinning Chook."I'll gi'yer a kick in the neck,if yer git me lumbered,"he added,scowling with counterfeit anger at his mate.
"If yer was my son,"said the Captain severely--"If yer was my son."he repeated,halting for words.
"I should 'ave trotters as big as yer own,"cried Jonah,pointing to the man's feet,cased in enormous bluchers.The Push yelled with derision as Jonah edged out of the circle ready for flight.
The Captain flushed angrily,and then his face cleared.
"Well,friends,"he cried,"God gave me big feet to tramp the streets and preach the Gospel to my fellow men."And the interrupted service went on.
Jonah,who carried the brains of the Push,devised a fresh attack,involving Chook,a broken bottle,and the big drum.
"It'll cut it like butter,"he was explaining,when suddenly there was a cry of "Nit!'Ere's a cop!"and the Push bolted like rabbits.
Jonah and Chook alone stood their ground,with reluctant valour,for the policeman was already beside them.Chook shoved the broken bottle into his pocket,and listened with unusual interest to the last hymn of the Army.Jonah,with one eye on the policeman,looked worried,as if he were struggling with a desire to join the Army and lead a pure life.
The policeman looked hard at them and turned away.
The pair were making a strategic movement to the rear,when the two girls who had exchanged shots with Chook at the corner passed them.The fat girl tapped Jonah on the back.He turned with a start.
"Nit yer larks!"he cried."I thought it was the cop.""Cum 'ere,Joe;I want yer,"said the girl.
"Wot's up now?"he cried,following her along the street.
They stood in earnest talk for some minutes,while Chook complimented the red-headed girl on her wit.
"Yer knocked me sky-'igh,"he confessed,with a leer.
"Did I?"
"Yer did.Gi'me one straight on the point,"he admitted.
"Yous keep a civil tongue in yer head,"she cried,and the curious pink flush spread over her white skin.
"Orl right,wot are yer narked about?"inquired Chook.
He noticed,with surprise,that she was pretty,with small regular features;her eyes quick and bright,like a bird's.Under the gaslight her hair was the colour of a new penny.
"W'y,I don't believe yer 'air is red,"said Chook,coming nearer.
"Now then,keep yer 'ands to yerself,"cried the girl,giving him a vigorous push.Before he could repeat his attack,she walked away to join Ada,who hailed her shrilly.
