"Take this up," whispered Margaret to a young negro near her; and the fourteen dollars and seventy-five cents were thus made complete.
"Did you ever see that rascal with the cap before?" whispered Rondelet.
"No, I think not."
"It's my boy Hero, the greatest scamp I know. That woman with a baby is his sister Leander. They were twins, and the minister who christened them got their names mixed, and the mistake was never corrected. They belonged to my father."
Now that the elder deacon's salary was provided for, the singing began in good earnest. The pastor, whose restraining hand had checked the song just at the generous stage of exaltation, by way of reward gave the rein to his parishioners. The music grew more and more impressive, interrupted as it was by deep groans and excited exclamations. In a pause of the hymn the minister asked, "Where is the miserable sinner?" He was echoed by Hero, who groaned as if with acute pain.
"Ay! ay! Where is he? Let him speak!"
"Here, here, here!" was answered from all parts of the church.
"Let him show himself," said the pastor.
"Show yerself, stand up dar; de Lord sees yer," cried Hero.
