Ezekiel’s amen was so sudden and emphatic that it startled the reader into looking up.  Instead of the faces of his congregation, he found himself treated to a view of their back hair.  Nearly every head was turned toward the rear corner of the room, there was a buzz of whispering and, in front, many men and women were standing up to look.  Captain Eben was scandalized.

“Well!” he exclaimed.  “Is this a prayer meetin’ or—­or—­what?  Brethren and sisters, I must say—­”

Ezekiel Bassett stepped forward and whispered in his ear.  The captain’s expression of righteous indignation changed to one of blank astonishment.  He, too, gazed at the dark corner.  Then his lips tightened and he rapped smartly on the table.

“Brethren and sisters,” he thundered, in the voice which, of old, had enforced obedience aboard his coasting schooner, “remember this is the house of the Lord.  Be reverent!”

He waited until every eye had swung about to meet his.  Then he regarded his abashed but excited hearers with a steady and prolonged stare.

“My friends,” he said, “let us bow in prayer.”

John Ellery could have repeated that prayer, almost word for word, years after that night.  The captain prayed for the few here gathered together:  Let them be steadfast.  Let them be constant in the way.  The path they were treading might be narrow and beset with thorns, but it was the path leading to glory.

“Scoffers may sneer,” he declared, his voice rising; “they may make a mock of us, they may even come into Thy presence to laugh at us, but theirs is the laugh that turns to groanin’.  O Lord, strengthen us to-night to speak what’s in our hearts, without fear.” ("A-men!”) “To prophesy in Thy name!  To bid the mockers and them that dare—­dare to profane this sanctuary be careful.  Hired singers and trumpets and vain shows we have not” ("Thank the Lord!  Amen!"), “but the true faith and the joy of it we do have.” ("Hallelujah!  Hallelujah!  Glory!”)

And so on, his remarks becoming more personal and ever pointing like a compass needle to the occupant of that seat in the corner.  The minister’s determination to attend a Come-Outer meeting, though it had reached the sticking point only a half hour before, was the result of considerable deliberation.  He had argued with himself and had made up his mind to find out for himself just what these people did.  He was finding out, certainly.  His motives were good and he had come with no desire to scoff, but, for the life of him, he could not help feeling like a criminal.  Incidentally, it provoked him to feel that way.

“O Lord,” prayed Captain Hammond, the perspiration in beads on his forehead, “Thou hast said that the pastors become brutish and have not sought Thee and that they shan’t prosper.  Help us tonight to labor with this one that he may see his error and repent in sackcloth and ashes.”

They sang once more, a hymn that prophesied woe to the unbeliever.  Then Ezekiel Bassett rose to “testify.”  The testimony was mainly to the effect that he was happy because he had fled to the ark of safety while there was yet time.