And so, at last, when the meeting broke up, and the audience started to leave, poor Jurgis was in an agony of uncertainty.  He had not thought of leaving—­he had thought that the vision must last forever, that he had found comrades and brothers.  But now he would go out, and the thing would fade away, and he would never be able to find it again!  He sat in his seat, frightened and wondering; but others in the same row wanted to get out, and so he had to stand up and move along.  As he was swept down the aisle he looked from one person to another, wistfully; they were all excitedly discussing the address—­but there was nobody who offered to discuss it with him.  He was near enough to the door to feel the night air, when desperation seized him.  He knew nothing at all about that speech he had heard, not even the name of the orator; and he was to go away—­no, no, it was preposterous, he must speak to some one; he must find that man himself and tell him.  He would not despise him, tramp as he was!

So he stepped into an empty row of seats and watched, and when the crowd had thinned out, he started toward the platform.  The speaker was gone; but there was a stage door that stood open, with people passing in and out, and no one on guard.  Jurgis summoned up his courage and went in, and down a hallway, and to the door of a room where many people were crowded.  No one paid any attention to him, and he pushed in, and in a corner he saw the man he sought.  The orator sat in a chair, with his shoulders sunk together and his eyes half closed; his face was ghastly pale, almost greenish in hue, and one arm lay limp at his side.  A big man with spectacles on stood near him, and kept pushing back the crowd, saying, “Stand away a little, please; can’t you see the comrade is worn out?”

So Jurgis stood watching, while five or ten minutes passed.  Now and then the man would look up, and address a word or two to those who were near him; and, at last, on one of these occasions, his glance rested on Jurgis.  There seemed to be a slight hint of inquiry about it, and a sudden impulse seized the other.  He stepped forward.

“I wanted to thank you, sir!” he began, in breathless haste.  “I could not go away without telling you how much—­how glad I am I heard you.  I—­I didn’t know anything about it all—­”

The big man with the spectacles, who had moved away, came back at this moment.  “The comrade is too tired to talk to any one—­” he began; but the other held up his hand.

“Wait,” he said.  “He has something to say to me.”  And then he looked into Jurgis’s face.  “You want to know more about Socialism?” he asked.

Jurgis started.  “I—­I—­” he stammered.  “Is it Socialism?  I didn’t know.  I want to know about what you spoke of—­I want to help.  I have been through all that.”

“Where do you live?” asked the other.

“I have no home,” said Jurgis, “I am out of work.”

“You are a foreigner, are you not?”