He turned a pair of fiery eyes on Tip, and a dreadful oath fell from his lips as he swung him angrily out of his way.
Oh, Tip Lewis! No wonder your heart fairly stops its beating for an instant, then bounds on with rapid throbs.

Only a few days ago you listened to the story of a bleeding, dying Saviour, bleeding and dying for you; and you promised, with honest tears, that for this you would love and serve and honour Him for ever.

And yet, to-night, here you are, watching the tricks of men who can speak that sacred name in such a way that it will make even you, who are used to this, shudder and turn cold.
"In the name of the Saviour whom you love, what do you here ?" It was to Tip as if Christ Himself had asked that question.

He turned suddenly, and, with both hands pressed to his ears, fairly fought his way through the crowd.
"Let me out! let me go!" He fairly shrieked the words at the astonished doorkeeper, who stood aside to let him pass.

Up the hill with swift, eager steps he ran, trying still to shut out the ring of that awful oath, the sound of that hateful voice, speaking the name which had so lately become to him the one dear and precious name in earth or heaven.