I
suddenly came across the Chapel. I like going into London churches
by chance, there's always something interesting, something you
wouldn't expect. The Chapel simply astonished me. I couldn't imagine
what they were all about, it wasn't the ordinary London
congregation, it was almost the ordinary London service and yet not
quite; there was an air of expectation and even excitement which is
most unusual in a London church. Then there was Warlock. Of course
one could see at once that he was an extraordinary man, a kind of
prophet all on his own; he was as far away from that congregation as
Columbus was from his crew when he first sighted the Indies."
"I've met one or two prophets in my time, and their concern has
always been with their audience first, themselves second and their
vision last. Warlock is the other way round. He should have been a
hermit, not the leader of a community. Well, it interested me. I
came again and again . . . I'm going to stay on now until the end."
"The end?" asked Maggie.
"The end of myself or the Chapel, whichever comes first. I wrote a
story once--a very bad one--about some merchants--why merchants I
don't know--who were flung on a desert island.
Pages:
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219