The Lost Hunter

by John Turvill Adams

  CHAPTER X.

  Thus as he spake, his visage waxed pale, And chaunge of hew great passion did bewray, Yett still he strove to cloke his inward bale, And hide the smoke that did his fire display.

  SPENSER'S FAERY QUEENE.

  The request of Mr. Armstrong, supported by the pleadings of hisdaughter, prevailed upon Holden to remain to tea, and afterwardsto accompany them to the "conference," as a meeting for religiouspurposes held usually on some particular evening of the week, wascalled. Upon the conclusion of the service he was to return withthem and pass the night at the house of his host. It was not withoutdifficulty he allowed his objections to be overruled, nor was he everknown before to have accepted such an invitation. But it had seemed oflate that as his influence with Miss Armstrong increased, so did hersover him, until he became unable to deny her slightest wish. Perhaps,too, the events of the afternoon, by bringing him more intimately intocommunion with sufferings like those through which he had passed, hadsoftened his sternness and disposed him more for human companionship.

  The little building where the "conference" met was of the humblestpretensions. It was a weather-stained, unpainted wooden edifice ofone story, standing at no great distance from the meeting-house, andcapable of containing comfortably, probably a hundred people. Theinterior was almost as rude and unattractive as the exterior, thewalls being coarsely plastered and dingy with smoke that had escapedfrom a cast-iron stove which stood in the centre of the room. Bencheswith backs were placed parallel to one another, and facing a sort ofrostrum or reading-desk, to which a passage betwixt the benches led.The inside work was equally innocent of paint as the outside.

  On the arrival of Mr. Armstrong with his companions, they found theroom only partly occupied, nor had the exercises commenced. Accordingto a custom which would have struck a stranger as singular, but which,doubtless, was founded in a knowledge of the nature of young men andyoung women, the males were seated on one side of the passage, andthe females on the other. The separation, as might be expected, onlypartly answered the purpose, being unable to arrest the glanceswhich, with quite as much of earth as of heaven in them, crossed theintervening space. These, however, were stolen, and managed in such aquiet way as not materially to affect the devotions of the elders.In compliance with an usage, a breach of which would have violatedpropriety, Faith, withdrawing her arm from her father's, glided intoa seat among her own sex on the right, while Mr. Armstrong and Holdensought places on the left.

  The appearance of the Solitary entering the little place of worship,striding up the passage with his usual air of dignity and composure,and taking a seat among the principal members of the church,occasioned great surprise. Although differing little, probably, inreligious sentiments (except in one point) from those around him, hehad never united with them in religious worship. He was, therefore,notwithstanding his frequent allusions to the Scriptures, consideredgenerally more in the light of a heathen than of a Christian man, andthe apparition of Plato or Socrates would hardly have excited moreobservation. Many, in consequence, were the looks bent on him by thosepresent, and those who afterwards came in.

  But of them, or of any sensation caused by his presence, he seemedutterly unconscious. With arms folded and head drooped upon his chest,he shut his eyes and abandoned himself to meditation.

  "Massy on us," whispered Miss Green, the mantua-maker, to her nextneighbor, Miss Thompson, the tailoress, "if here ain't old Holden. Iwonder what fetches him here."

  "And did you see!" said Miss Thompson, whispering in like manner, "hecame in with the Armstrongs. I always did admire what they could seein him to like."

  "I guess," said Miss Green, "he feels kind o' awkward. Look howhe's folded his arms. It's so long since he's been to meeting orconference, if he was ever in such a place before; he don't know howto behave."

  "There's no sort o' set about his clothes," observed Miss Thompson."They look as if he made them himself."

  "Perhaps he did, but they're good enough to go with Faith Armstrong'scloak" (which had been made by a rival artiste), responded Miss Green."What dark colors she wears, no variety, and how dreadful old theymake her look!"

  "Hush!" said Miss Thompson, "the deacon's going to open."

  During the colloquy of the two spinsters a grave, respectable-lookingman, somewhat advanced in years, had taken a seat behind thereading-desk, and opening the large Bible that lay upon it, selecteda chapter, and now invited the attention of the audience to itscontents. Upon its conclusion he gave out a hymn, the tune of whichwas announced by another person, who immediately on naming it pulledout a pitch-pipe from his pocket and making a slight sound, furnishedthe starting note. The singing proceeded principally from a certainpart of the room, as if by some understanding the singers had beencollected together, although scattered sounds also, of either rumblingbass or shrill treble whose trembling modulations betrayed theadvanced age of the performers, were here and there heard. Someof these guerrilla passages were sadly out of time and tune, andaccording to the humor of the hearer might either provoke a smileor start a tear. The gay and thoughtless might, indeed, laugh at thewavering and undecided notes, but to the reflecting mind there wassomething profoundly pathetic in the feeble tribute to the praise oftheir Maker, of those whose voices in the ordinary course of naturemust soon be silent in the grave.

  After the singing was ended, the person who had hitherto officiatedinvited Deacon Baldwin, calling him by name, to make a prayer.Hereupon the deacon rose, and folding his hands complied with therequest, while most of the congregation respectfully bent forward,or covered their faces with their handkerchiefs. The prayer evidentlycame from a sincere and earnest heart, but contained nothing thatrequires it should be recorded. Another hymn was then sung, upon theconclusion of which followed the sermon.

  The person who came forward to perform this office was a short,thick-set man, of middle age, with a bull neck. His features wereharsh and severe, and stamped with an expression of mortification,though the gross animality of the mouth and chin too plainly revealedhow many and desperate were the conflicts it must have cost him tobecome a saint. As he passed to the reading-desk his clothes brushedHolden, who shrunk from the touch. The Solitary looked up, but as ifwhat he saw was displeasing, he averted his face and shut his eyes.

  The first thing done by Davenport on reaching the desk, and casting afurtive glance around, was to draw an East India silk handkerchief outof his pocket, and having noticed a spittoon by his side, to blow hisnose sonorously. He then cleared his throat two or three times, andcommenced reading.

  It happened, singularly enough, that the subject was prophecy,considered as evidence of the divine inspiration of the Scriptures.The writer, after referring to the fulfillment of many propheciescontained in the Old Testament, came to those in the New, and amongstothers he spoke of that in which Christ alludes to the destruction ofJerusalem. He said that even in the times of the Apostles, there werepersons who, by putting too literal a construction upon the words,were misled into believing that the end of the world was at hand, andthat there had never been a time when there were not victims to thesame delusion.

  It was impossible, with reference to the condition of Holden'smind, to have selected either a topic or reader more unsuitable. Theaversion he had manifested at first increased every moment. It was oneof those antipathies as unquestionable as they are unaccountable. Itat first exhibited itself in restlessness, and an inability to remainquiet, and afterwards in half-suppressed groans and sighs. If heopened his eyes and looked at the reader, he saw a devilish figure,with a malignant leer glaring at him; if he shut them to exclude thedisagreeable image it was converted into a thousand smaller figures,dancing up and down like motes in a distempered vision, all wearingthat intolerable grin, while the whole time a hissing sound, as if itcame from a snake, whispered in his ears temptations to some deadlysin. It was a trial the shattered nerves of the enthusiast wereill qualified to bear, and, finally, a torture beyond his powersof endur
ance. The very force of the reasons urged by the writerdistressed him more and more. They seemed to his disorderedimagination the subtle enticements of an evil spirit to lure himfrom the truth, and Davenport an emissary of Satan, if not thearch-deceiver himself. No adequate answers to doctrines which he waspersuaded were false presented themselves to his mind, and this heascribed to some hellish spell, which fettered his reason, and mustsoon be broken, or he was lost. Mentally, then, first ejaculating aprayer, he suddenly sprung to his feet, and in a loud voice bade thereader to stop.

  "Forbear," he cried, "man of sin, to seduce the people with thesesoul-damning and abominable lies. I conjure thee, Satan, to leave thebody of this man, and depart. Ha! thou wouldst lull them intosecurity that they may slumber and have no oil in their lamps whenthe Bridegroom cometh, when He cometh in the clouds of heaven. My soulhave not thou thy portion with the unbelievers."

  The words were uttered with wonderful vehemence and rapidity, and upontheir conclusion, he strode with long strides down the passage towardsthe door. Not an exclamation was heard, not a hand raised to stay hisdeparture, so stupefied were all with astonishment. Upon leaving theroom he rushed into the street, and, forgetful of his promise to Mr.Armstrong, took his way to his own hut. The tything man, awakeningfrom his lethargy, and a few others recovering their presence of mind,went at last to the door, and gazed up and down the street, but thedisturber of the meeting was not in sight, nor, sooth to say, wereany of the number sorry, or wished to meet him that night. Contentingthemselves, therefore, with this slight demonstration of zeal, theyreturned to the Conference-room. There, great as was the scandaloccasioned by the interruption, all things soon settled down intotheir usual course, and the meeting was regularly concluded anddismissed.