"I saw an old man with grey hairs, and another man old and grey was
beside him. The countenances of both were dark and unlovely. And one old
man was on his knees--but it was not to God he knelt; he had set up an
idol to worship, and that idol was gold; and God, as a punishment, had
turned his heart to stone, so that nothing but the gold could awaken the
least sympathy there. And whilst he knelt to the idol, I heard a cry--a
loud, horrid, despairing cry--and the old man fell to the earth
weltering in his blood; but he had still strength to lock up his idol,
and he held the key as tightly as if it had been the key of heaven. And
I saw two young men enter the house and attack the old man, while his
companion, whom they did not see, stole out of a back door and fled. And
they dashed the wounded old man against the stones, and they marred his
visage with savage blows; and they trod him underfoot, and tore from him
his idol, and fled.
"And I saw another youth with a face full of sorrow, and while he wept
over the dead man, he was surrounded by strange figures, who, regardless
of his grief, forced him from the room. And while I pondered over these
things in my heart, an angel came to my bed-side, and whispered a message
from God in my ears. And I awoke from my sleep; and lo, the old man's
idol was before me, and his blood was upon your hands, Godfrey
Hurdlestone.
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