yellow.

"In Heaven's name," I said, "what are you doing here?" He looked at me
with an expression of excruciating pain on his face, and said:

"I have travelled some thousands of miles in order to be alone; if you
have any kindness, any pity, leave me."

"Pardon me," I said, "for intruding."

That night the Ex-Club invited him to take part in their
deliberations. He refused, and his manner showed that he considered
the invitation an insult. I had known this man as a brilliant orator,
a religious leader, the champion of a sect. In a city across the sea I
had sat as a barelegged boy on an upturned barrel, part of an immense
crowd, listening to the flow of his oratory. Next day he left the
bunk-house. Some weeks afterward I found him on a curbstone, preaching
to whoever of the pedestrians would listen.

At the close of his address, I introduced myself again. He took me to
his new lodging, and I put the questions that filled my mind. For
answer he gave me the House of Commons Blue Book, which explained the
charge hanging over him. Almost daily, for weeks, I heard him on his
knees proclaim his innocence of the unmentionable crime with which he
was charged. After some weeks of daily association, he said to me:

"I believe you are sent of God to guide me, and I am prepared to take
your advice."

My advice was ready. He turned pale as I told him to pack his trunk