The Bishop was to preach at
eleven o'clock, and a great crowd was there, full of high expectation. A
stranger drove up just before the hour of service--a broad shouldered
man in blue clothes, and wearing a glazed cap. He asked to see Bishop
Kavanaugh privately for a few moments.
They retired to "the preachers' tent," and the stranger said:
"My name is Jackson--Colonel Jackson, of the United States Army. I have
a disagreeable duty to perform. By order of General McDowell, I am to
place you under arrest, and take you to San Francisco."
"Can you wait until I preach my sermon?" asked the Bishop,
good-naturedly; "the people expect it, and I don't want to disappoint
them if it can be helped."
"How long will it take you?"
"Well, I am a little uncertain when I get started, but I will try not to
be too long."
"Very well; go on with your sermon, and if you have no objection I will
be one of your hearers."
The secret was known only to the Bishop and his captor. The sermon was
one of his best--the vast crowd of people were mightily moved, and the
Colonel's eyes were not dry when it closed. After a prayer, and a song,
and a collection, the Bishop stood up again before the people, and said:
"I have just received a message which makes it necessary for me to
return to San Francisco immediately.
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