He retired a pace from the altar, signed himself with the cross,
and with Mr. John FitzHerbert and his son Thomas on either side of him,
began the preparation....
It was a strange and an inspiriting sight that the young priest (for it
was Mr. Simpson who was saying the mass) looked upon as he turned round
after the gospel to make his little sermon. From end to end the tiny
chapel was full, packed so that few could kneel and none sit down. The
two doors were open, and here two faces peered in; and behind, rank
after rank down the steps and along the little passage, the folk stood
or knelt, out of sight of both priest and altar, and almost out of
sound. The sanctuary was full of children--whose round-eyed, solemn
faces looked up at him--children who knew little or nothing of what was
passing, except that they were there to worship God, but who, for all
that, received impressions and associations that could never thereafter
wholly leave them. The chapel was still completely dark, for the faint
light of dawn was excluded by the heavy hangings over the windows; and
there was but the light of the two tapers to show the people to one
another and the priest to them all.
It was an inspiriting sight to him then--and one which well rewarded him
for his labours, since there was not a class from gentlemen to labourers
who was not represented there. The FitzHerberts, the Babingtons, the
Fentons--these, with their servants and guests, accounted for perhaps
half of the folk.
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