Fury

by Bill Bright

  “This Epps fellow, where is he now?” Robbins asked.

  Asa lifted his head and spoke in a detached voice. “Can’t say for certain. He didn’t like hotels, so he’d take my carriage and go off by himself. He’ll pick me up in the morning. We’d planned to leave for Syracuse.”

  “If it’s all the same to you,” Robbins said, “I’m going to invite the sheriff to be there to meet this Epps when he arrives in the morning.”

  Daniel folded his arms and sat back in his chair. His uncle still didn’t believe him. Not until the sheriff proved him right about Epps would his uncle believe him, which meant his uncle still didn’t believe him about Cyrus Gregg, either.

  Robbins threw his hands wide emphatically. “I’ll tell you what I can’t believe! I still can’t believe I have Asa Rush and the son of Eli Cooper sitting at my kitchen table! And for both of them to appear right as another revival breaks out! God’s hand is in it, that’s all I have to say.”

  No one disagreed with him.

  “Asa—what do you think of the revival?” Robbins asked. “In your opinion, how does it compare to the Yale revival?”

  “I’m afraid I don’t have enough evidence to form an opinion,” Uncle Asa said. “But I sense something. God is here. But I have yet to witness anything directly.”

  “You’ve seen more than you’re aware of,” Robbins said.

  “The angel,” Lucy offered.

  “I was thinking of those present at this table.” Robbins smiled at his daughter.

  “We’re all a product of the revival, Mr. Rush,” Hannah replied. “Lucy, Ben, myself—”

  “—and Daniel,” Ben inserted. “The revival’s most notorious convert.”

  Daniel took the comment as it was intended, as a good-natured rib between friends. It made him feel accepted.

  “Maybe if you heard more about the revival and Reverend Finney…,” Robbins suggested. “Let me tell you one of my favorite Finney stories.”

  He sat forward, arms on the table, in storyteller fashion. “I like this story because, having cut my teeth on the docks, I know how rough a neighborhood it can be. Then again, maybe I like the story because it shows the innate compassion of—”

  “Papa,” Hannah interrupted, “just tell the story!”

  “Right.” Robbins winked. To Asa he said, “Hannah’s always looking out for me when her mother’s not around. Even when she was little. One time—”

  “Papa? The story?”

  The way she spoke to her father and the playful way he responded to her stirred Daniel in a way that he couldn’t begin to explain. Somehow the love of her father made Hannah more attractive. She had a glow about her. Daniel could hardly take his eyes off her.

  “This incident took place in a harbor town before Finney became a Christian,” Robbins began. “At the time, he had thoughts of enlisting in the navy. While he was walking along the boardwalk, this pretty young prostitute walks up to him and propositions him. Finney looks her in the eyes…she looks at him…and Finney breaks into tears, so overcome is he with the circumstances that would turn a lovely young girl into a prostitute! Seeing his compassion, the girl breaks into tears. Both of them stand there, weeping, on the docks. Finally they turn and go their separate ways.”

  “Ahhh!” Lucy said. “That’s sweet!”

  “Tell Mr. Rush the prayer meeting story in Western,” Ben urged.

  Robbins sat back in his chair. “You like that one, do you? Go ahead, Ben. You tell it.”

  From his startled expression, it was obvious that Ben hadn’t expected to find himself the center of attention. But he warmed to it.

  “Well, the way I heard it,” he said, “a church in Western asked Reverend Finney to come and lead their prayer meeting. He agreed to attend but declined to lead it, preferring to hear them pray and talk. So one of the elders stood and opened the meeting by reading a chapter in the Bible and then leading them in a hymn. After that he launched into a prayer that became a very, very long prayer—more like a narration.

  “The man told the Lord how they’d been holding prayer meetings weekly at the church for many years, and that they’d seen no answers to their prayers. After he was done, another elder stood and began to pray, going over the same ground. Then a third elder prayed in similar fashion. All the while Finney fidgeted, as if he could hardly contain himself.

  “When they finished praying, before they dismissed the meeting, one of the elders turned to Mr. Finney and asked him if he would care to make any remarks to the group.”

  From the expression on their faces, Daniel could tell that Lucy and Hannah had heard this story before. They grinned in anticipation of what was to come.

  “Well, Reverend Finney stood,” Ben continued. “At first, he had no idea what he was going to say. Then, looking at them, he said, ‘Would you mock God?’ And he proceeded to tell them that God never shirks on a prayer, and that He had not answered their prayers because they didn’t expect Him to answer their prayers.”

  “He said that?” Uncle Asa asked.

  Robbins said, “The story comes from a reliable source—one of the elders himself. Go on, Ben.”

  There was a twinkle in Ben’s eyes as he continued. “At first, they were angry. Some were so angry that they were ready to get up and walk out. Then the elder who opened the meeting burst into tears. ‘Mr. Finney, it’s all true! Every word of it is true!’ Weeping, he fell to his knees.

  “Before long, all the people in the room were on their knees, weeping and confessing and pouring out their hearts to God. Finney told them he believed that if they would unite and pray in faith that afternoon for an outpouring of God’s Spirit, they would receive an answer from heaven sooner than they could get a message from Albany by the quickest post that could be sent.

  “The people of the church prevailed on Finney to stay with them and preach to them, and when he saw the condition of their hearts, he consented to stay with them and preach that following Sunday. Well, the Spirit fell with great power that Sunday, and pretty soon Finney was preaching in businesses and hotels and schoolhouses. That’s how the revival started in Western,” Ben concluded in storyteller fashion. “And it did come sooner than a post from Albany.”

  “I didn’t come after you to insist you return with me to Cumberland,” Asa said.

  Daniel and his uncle stood under the stars between the house and the barn. Ben was helping Mr. Robbins hitch up the horse. Hannah and Lucy were still in the house.

  “Then why did you come after me?” Daniel asked.

  “To make sure you were safe and to let you know that you will always have a home with me and your aunt.”

  “What about the money Cyrus Gregg claims I stole?”

  “Did you steal it?”

  “No.”

  His uncle nodded. “That’s good enough for me.”

  “But you still don’t believe me about Mr. Gregg.”

  The way his uncle sighed, it was obvious he didn’t. “Cyrus Gregg has been a friend for years…”

  Daniel turned to walk away.

  His uncle caught him by the arm. “A man gives his friends the benefit of the doubt. Put yourself in my place. I don’t know what’s going on. I admit that. I thought I knew Robely Epps. Apparently I don’t. He fooled me. But if he fooled me, isn’t it possible that he’s also fooled Cyrus Gregg?”

  “What about family?” Daniel asked. “Aren’t you supposed to give family the benefit of the doubt too?”

  The carriage with Robbins and Ben emerged from the barn. Lucy and Hannah stepped from the house, bundled against the crisp January night.

  Lucy, eyes sparkling, ran to Daniel and took him by the arm. “You’re riding with us, aren’t you?”

  Daniel glanced at Ben sitting alone in the back of the carriage. There was plenty of room for three.

  “No,” Daniel said. “I think I’ll stay here.”

  Lucy’s lower lip protruded in a pout. Daniel didn’t give her a chance to change his mind. He helped her
into the back of the carriage beside a grinning Ben.

  Uncle Asa climbed into the front seat next to Robbins. To Daniel he said, “I’d like you to come to town with Robbins in the morning. I’m sure the sheriff will have some questions for you regarding Robely.”

  “I’ll be there,” Daniel promised.

  “From what Robbins has told me, there’s a prayer meeting with this Finney fellow tomorrow afternoon. I’d like to hear him for myself. So I’ll be staying an extra day.”

  Everyone said their good-byes.

  As the carriage rattled down the road, Daniel and Hannah were left standing alone.

  “I’ll walk you into the barn,” Hannah said, her arms folded, her shoulders hunched to ward off the cold.

  Daniel shoved his hands into his pockets.

  They fell into step.

  He closed the huge barn door behind them while she lit a lantern.

  “I suppose you’ll be leaving with your uncle,” Hannah said.

  “Why would you suppose that?”

  From her expression, his answer had surprised her.

  “He came all this way…,” she began.

  Daniel shook his head. “He doesn’t expect me to return with him.”

  “He told you that?”

  “Aya.”

  Hannah folded her arms again. Her posture made her appear motherly. “You should go back with him.”

  Now Daniel was surprised. “Why would you say something like that?”

  “Family. He and your aunt need you.”

  “They don’t need me.”

  “What about this Mr. Gregg? How is your uncle going to get to the truth if you’re not there?”

  Daniel shrugged off any implied responsibility. “Cyrus Gregg is my uncle’s problem. Besides, I came all this way to find a new life. I can’t leave now. I don’t want to leave now.”

  Hannah looked away. “Lucy.”

  “No, not Lucy.” Daniel stepped closer, stopping shy of touching her. “I want to stay because of you,” he murmured.

  For a long time Hannah said nothing.

  Had she heard him?

  Then she looked up. Her eyes were wet. And angry. “I can’t believe you could be so cruel!”

  Before Daniel could stop her, Hannah fled from the barn.

  Am I wicked?

  Camilla cut a piece of cake and put it on a plate. Cyrus Gregg could be heard moving about in the front room. It was late. Much later than was socially acceptable.

  Camilla didn’t care.

  It was at night she suffered the most. Walking through the house in the dark. Lying in bed, listening to the creaks of the house, welcoming any sound she didn’t make. She’d come to think of the creaks as the house talking to her. It was at night she craved a human voice.

  “Would you like more tea?” she called.

  “Can’t have cake without tea,” Gregg called back.

  Camilla smiled. She lit the stove and put the kettle on, savoring the company. Within the hour she’d be alone in bed, her hand wandering over to Asa’s side to feel the cold, empty space.

  Would she ever adjust to being alone? Right now she couldn’t imagine getting used to it. She had a hollow place in her chest that no amount of activity could fill.

  But Gregg filled it. When he was around.

  She wished he wouldn’t leave her alone tonight.

  Am I wicked?she thought.

  Chapter 38

  Early morning light streamed into the hotel lobby. Uncle Asa and Robbins stood off to the side, talking to the sheriff, when Hannah arrived with Lucy and Ben.

  Daniel felt a twinge of pain when he looked at Hannah. She hadn’t spoken to him the entire ride into town. Her father had done all the talking. Then, at his prompting, Hannah had gone immediately to Lucy’s house. Robbins had insisted she not be at the hotel when Epps showed up.

  Hannah’s eagerness to leave so soon bothered Daniel. It was as if she was eager to get away from him.

  “What did I miss?” Ben asked, hurrying in. “Where is he?”

  “Epps never showed,” Daniel replied. “They found my uncle’s carriage abandoned near the canal road. It had an empty pistol case in the back.”

  “Empty?” Lucy said.

  “Which means he still has the gun,” Ben concluded, clearly enjoying the mystery. “Do you think he got wind the sheriff was looking for him?”

  “How?” Daniel asked. “Nobody but us knew that the sheriff was going to be here. Not even the sheriff, until this morning.”

  He risked a glance at Hannah. The instant he caught her eye, she looked away.

  He wracked his brain trying to figure out how he’d offended her. Girls liked being told when a guy was attracted to them, didn’t they? Or had she interpreted his comment as a violation of her trust—since she’d told him she no longer liked Ben, but she hadn’t yet told Ben, so technically she wasn’t available? Had she taken offense because Daniel had acted prematurely?

  In a way, it sort of made sense. Daniel wished there was some kind of rule book that documented these things. It would certainly save everyone a lot of grief.

  Hannah grabbed Lucy by the arm and tugged her toward the dining room.

  “We’ll go save some seats,” she said to no one in particular.

  She wasn’t fooling Daniel. It was still early. There were plenty of available seats. Hannah just didn’t want to stand here with him.

  When the girls were out of earshot, Daniel said, “You’ve got to tell her!”

  “Tell who what?”

  “Hannah! You have to tell her you don’t want to be with her!”

  Ben grimaced and shook his head. “Don’t you think I’ve tried?”

  “Try harder!” Daniel insisted.

  As time for the prayer meeting drew near, Uncle Asa and Robbins concluded their business with the sheriff and joined the younger men.

  “Where are the girls?” Robbins asked.

  “Saving seats,” Ben answered.

  “What’s the sheriff going to do?” Daniel asked.

  “Not much he can do,” his uncle replied. “He said he’ll keep an eye open, alert the local businesses—that sort of thing. But I doubt it’ll do much good. Epps is an expert woodsman. If he knows someone’s looking for him, he’ll disappear into the back country. He won’t stay here in town.”

  With the hotel lobby getting crowded, the men decided it was time to join the girls in the dining room.

  As they walked into the room, Daniel noticed it was set up the same as it had been for the meeting of inquiry. Excitement rushed through him at the thought of what was going to happen there in the next few hours. Then, in the next instant, he was amused. How much had Daniel Cooper changed that a prayer meeting could so excite him?

  In the loft last night, after all the others had gone home and Hannah had stormed into the house, he had tried praying the way he used to pray. On his knees. Hands folded. He started with the memorized prayers he was taught as a child, hoping to warm up with them. But on his own, all he did was mumble one incoherent phrase after another. It felt so awkward and unnatural.

  Then he had an idea. He prayed not with words, but with his recorder. He poured out his heart to God in music. After all, surely the God who understood Hebrew and Greek and Latin and all the languages of the world understood the language of music, didn’t He?

  Daniel had played and prayed late into the night—a deeply moving experience of suspended time and emotion and longing and praise, of spirits intertwining perfectly in harmony and companionship, as God had intended from the beginning when He said, “Let us make man in our image.”

  The annoying clang of the porter’s bell yanked Daniel out of his reverie. Along with his uncle, Robbins, and Ben, he slipped into the stream of humanity that was flowing into the dining room.

  Lucy assigned the boys seats when they arrived as she had done the night before at the revival. Hannah sat at the far end of the row next to the aisle, her hands in her lap, her head bowed. But
her posture didn’t fool Daniel. Lucy may have been the one directing the seating, but Hannah had a clear hand in it.

  Lucy’s seat was next to Hannah, then Ben, then Mr. Robbins, then Uncle Asa, and finally Daniel—as far from Hannah as possible.

  Daniel accepted his exile without objection. He reminded himself that they’d come to pray, not to socialize.

  The room was a beehive of excitement and activity. It wasn’t like the tense, anxious mood of yesterday, during the meeting of inquiry. Today he could feel the Spirit. Something special was going to happen.

  Mr. Gillett appeared at the podium and called the room to order. He explained that the purpose of the meeting was prayer, so they would forgo any reading of Scripture or singing and get right to the matter. He then introduced Reverend Finney and asked him to make similar comments as he had made at Western regarding prayer.

  Finney stood. While Gillett spoke, there was an underlying hum of voices. As Finney approached the podium, the room hushed.

  “As I told the good people of Western,” Finney said, “I believe that if you will unite this afternoon in the prayer of faith to God for the immediate outpouring of His Spirit, you will receive an answer from heaven.”

  “Quicker than by post for Albany,” Ben added. He whispered it loud enough for his row to hear.

  The preliminaries over, they started praying. In some parts of the room clusters formed. Others prayed in family groups. Scattered throughout the room, couples and trios prayed together. A general buzz engulfed the room, occasionally interrupted by someone standing and voicing a prayer that all could hear.

  Daniel followed the example of Ben and Robbins and his uncle by turning around, facing his chair, and kneeling with folded hands on the seat.

  He prayed, “Dear God…” but got no further than that. He tried again. “Our Father, who art in heaven…” and came up dry.