They were a great bore to Harold, who knew the members of the band and disliked most of them.

He considered them "a little off their nut"-- that is to say, fanatic.

He kept his cell closely, and the devoted ones seldom caught a glimpse of him, though he was the chief object of their care.

They sang Pull for the Shore, Trust it all with Jesus, and other well-worn Moody and Sankey hymns, and the leader prayed resoundingly, and then, one by one, the others made little talks to the prison walls.

There was seldom a face to be seen.
Muttered curses occasionally rumbled from the cells where the prisoners were trying to sleep.
But the leader was a shrewd young man, and not many Sundays after his initial attempt the prisoners were amazed to hear female voices joining in the songs.