What a fool he had been! How utterly insane all
his fantasies seemed to him now! So he passed another sleepless night,
and it was not till daylight that he fell into a troubled slumber.
He had to control his impatience until after eleven o'clock, the hour
of the service at the church. Sophie wished to go with him and share
his peril, but he would not consent to this. He would not be able to
give the manifesto to everyone, but he could reach enough--the others
would hear about it! So, a full hour before the end of the service, he
took up his post across the street, his heart beating furiously. He
was feeling, it must be confessed, a good deal like a dynamiter or an
assassin. The weather was warm, and the door of the church was open,
so that he could hear the booming voice of Dr. Vince. The sound of the
organ brought tears into his eyes--he loved the organ, and he was not
to be allowed to listen to it! At last came the end; the sounds of the
choir receded, and the assassin moved over to a strategic position.
And then came the first of the congregation--of all persons, the
Olympian Mr. Curtis!
"Will you take one of these, sir?" said Samuel, with his heart in his
throat. And Mr. Curtis who was mopping his forehead with his
handkerchief, started as if he had seen a ghost. "Boy, what are you
doing?" he cried; but Samuel had darted away, trying to give out the
slips of paper to the people as they came out at both doors.
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