Читать книгу Shaken by the Wind - Ray Strachey - Страница 6

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“Well, Sally, you will be glad to know that your house is to be occupied at last.”

“Have you let it? Oh, Thomas, I am glad. But I hope you haven’t been too soft-hearted about the rent?”

The speaker looked up over her coffee cups and breakfast things, and smiled a little anxiously at her husband. Thirteen years had gone by since the day when Sarah had returned to her duty, and in those years she had managed to build up her inner life independently of her husband. The Lord had helped her through her trouble in generous measure. He was at once the comfort and the romance of her life, and it was to Him rather than to any human love that she turned for companionship and intimate understanding. For the rest, motherhood had come to be almost infinitely important to her outward life. The three little girls who had been born to her after her return to Thomas had been an unmixed joy. In her love for them, and for young Edmund, Sarah had grown tolerant of their father, and her days were serene.

This matter of the house next door was important chiefly for the children’s sake. So many hopes and plans had been based upon the rent of it, and now perhaps they would all crash to the ground. Something in Thomas’s tone made his wife uneasy, and as he did not at once answer she repeated her question again.

“What rent did you agree on, Thomas? We are all interested to know.”

A slightly uneasy expression came over his face, and as she saw it Sarah’s heart sank. She knew that look so well! He had been generous again, and didn’t exactly know how to say so. And, as usual, the brunt of his generosity was going to fall on her, for the house next door was her property after all, now that her father was dead, so that it was not really his to be generous with. It was wonderful what a trial a good man could be to his family!

While Thomas delivered the preliminary discourse on Christian charity and on the motives which ought to animate those who possess this world’s goods, which was intended, she supposed, to lead up to the announcement that he had lent the house for nothing to some broken-down missionary, Sarah had time to suffer a familiar welling up of indignation against her husband’s inconsiderate ways. She had also time to endure the sharper pang of disappointment on her children’s behalf, and to catch a glance of sympathy from Edmund, which she tried both to accept and to reprove. After that she was able to send a stray thought in the direction of economies by which, after all, some of the children’s hopes might be realized, before her husband reached the real point of his explanation. For Thomas was a very eloquent man.

When Sarah’s attention settled down to what her husband was saying it was to discover that he had lent her house without charge, and apparently for an indefinite period, to a “wonderful saint” and the two sisters with whom he lived, people who were exceedingly active in the Lord’s work, and who had suffered much persecution because of their views. She would be, she was assured, edified and greatly advanced in her inner life by contact with them. In fact, it was in the nature of a Christian privilege to assist such people.

As the full import of all this came home to the children they turned disappointed eyes to their mother, and as soon as Thomas paused in his explanations, she bustled them off with reassuring words and glances. It would be easier to speak pleasantly to their father if they were not in sight.

“Trot off to school now, children; quick, or you’ll be late. Leave it all to me; we’ll manage somehow.”

They behaved very well. Thomas, indeed, felt, as he so often did, a faintly uneasy suspicion that he was outside the real circle of his own home, and that secrets went on which he did not share; but it was only a passing feeling, for in a surprisingly short time there was Sarah back again, ready to listen to his talk. And Edmund, too, was attentive; and there was a great deal more to be said.

Thomas did not get quite such a clear run this time, however, for Sarah had many questions to ask. How and where had he met these people, and what were the opinions for which they had suffered? Had he taken it all entirely on trust, or were they known and introduced by any friends? Of the money aspect of the affair she said nothing; he had settled that and what was the use of complaining?

Thomas was not able to give fully satisfactory answers to his wife’s questions about their new neighbours, not fully satisfactory to her, that is. For himself they were quite enough. He had met the man first only the day before, at a lunch-hour prayer-meeting down town. Mr. Rufus Hollins had been preaching (a wonderful discourse) and afterwards they had fallen into conversation. There was no reason to doubt anything he had said (why was Sarah always so suspicious?) He had been practically driven away from a church he had held in Corinth, New Jersey, because of his open-minded attitude towards the Second Coming. The two Miss Thrushes, who were with him, had left when he did. (It was a surprise to Sarah to learn that the two sisters with whom he lived were not his own sisters; but, after all, Thomas had not said they were.) They had a little money, the two Miss Thrushes, but Mr. Hollins had none at all, and the Lord had led him to Delaville by means of a casual invitation to address one noon hour meeting. He had trusted that this would lead to some further call, and that the Lord would open out the way. And thus, as Thomas said, it was clearly providential that the house next door should be put at their disposal, since it was standing empty, and the Lord had thrown them all together so unmistakably.

Sarah Sonning accepted her husband’s explanation, resolving inwardly to lay the matter before the Lord on her own account at the earliest opportunity, and abide by what He said. It was the only way to feel satisfied upon the matter.

It needed but a single visit to the strangers to secure Sarah’s full and even enthusiastic approval of their coming. It must have been the Lord who led them, she decided; and indeed, if one looked deep enough one could see the hand of the Lord in every happening of life. She had been unworthy and unfaithful not to have trusted Him at once!

Before the first call Sarah had prepared her mind to bear the thanks and gratitude she did not deserve, but it had turned out quite differently from her expectations. Miss Silence and Miss Patience Thrush were at first sight rather formidable ladies. About forty years old, trim and neat, they did not seem to promise any great expansiveness. They were seated sewing in the front parlour when their landlady arrived, but as soon as they knew who she was they asked her to join them in prayer, and then and there plumped down upon their knees. Sarah, though a little surprised at this proceeding at a first encounter, was always willing for such occasions, and the ice was thus immediately broken. Miss Silence took the word, and gave emphatic and obviously genuine thanks on behalf of their visitor for holy man, Rufus Hollins. She rendered thanks, too, on behalf of herself and her sister, that they were allowed to administer to his bodily comfort day by day, and wound up with a petition that they might all three be enabled to take advantage of the great mercies which were being vouchsafed to them.

Sarah was a good deal surprised by the tone of this petition, and, with the downrightness which was her natural method of approach to strangers, she asked them, when they had all risen from their knees, what it was that led them to believe Mr. Hollins to be so important and holy a man.

The two sisters needed no other encouragement. They plunged at once into the tale of his virtues, and Sarah was delighted to believe it all. They told her of his saintly life, of his utter devotion and consecration; of the divine guidance with which he was favoured, and, what was most wonderful of all, of the direct intercourse which they knew him to have with the Powers above.

It was entrancing, and Sarah, by her eager interest, soon drew from them what they knew of the history of this holy man.

Miss Silence was the spokeswoman, for hers was clearly the leading spirit. They had met Rufus first, she said, at a Revival meeting, even as Thomas Sonning himself had met him. Everything which happened to Brother Rufus was Providential. It had been five years ago, at a time when they had been labouring under a heavy conviction of sin, and his message had brought them healing. A little group of followers had gathered round him; for a time all had gone well. But the Lord had allowed troubles to arise, and there had been disagreements, misunderstandings. However, Brother Rufus was undismayed, and they had thrown in their lot with him, believing him to be a Prophet of God. They did not know, they would never ask, where he came from. It was enough that he was.

There was much common ground on which to build an intimacy, and day after day Sarah went into the house next door to enjoy the conversation of her new friends. As their intimacy increased they said yet more about the holiness of their leader, and gradually they revealed to Sarah’s earnest questioning the fact that Mr. Hollins was in possession of a secret, too sacred to be casually revealed, too difficult, indeed, to be fully understood by many, but most wonderfully vivifying to the spiritual life. Once she got wind of the existence of this hidden doctrine there was no holding Sarah back. She begged hard to be admitted to their confidence, and used every effort in her power to establish her position as one of the initiated.

Although her intimacy with the ladies rapidly increased, she found herself as far off as ever from the leader and fount of it all. Indeed, as time went on, she perceived that he was actually avoiding her. It was curious, considering how their lives were linked together, how little Mr. Hollins and the Thrush sisters seemed to see of each other. Those homely, comfortable gatherings where they all met and prayed and discussed together, which would have seemed so natural, never actually took place, and Sarah, much as she wished to admire the man, had to confess that she was never quite at ease in his presence.

The reluctance which Mr. Hollins showed for all forms of social intercourse, even the most prayerful, troubled both Sarah and Thomas. It seemed strange, even unkind, that a man who had in his heart any of the Lord’s secrets should keep them to himself; and Sarah finally broke out with this opinion to the elder Miss Thrush.

Instead of being annoyed by this criticism of their leader, as Sarah had feared, Silence seemed greatly pleased that the subject should be broached. She readily admitted that it must seem peculiar to one who did not know the circumstances, and fully agreed that their whole way of life must appear mysterious in the extreme.

“If you knew, Sarah, as I know, the terrible things our friend has had to go through; if you knew the powerful reasons which cause him to hold back from all confidences, and from public occasions, you would not wonder at his present course.”

Hints such as these naturally led to more questionings, and, though neither of the sisters could speak openly, Sarah presently received a strong impression that they had all three suffered from a serious persecution, and that they were mistrustful even of their most intimate friends. Pointed as were her questions, Sarah was not able to get any very concrete information as to the origin and cause of the persecution. Scandals of some sort had arisen, due, she supposed, to the unorthodox beliefs Mr. Hollins had been preaching; but there had been something else, though what it was she could not fathom, which had been “gravely misunderstood” in the place from which they had come. It had taught them a lesson, and henceforward they would proceed very carefully, expounding and explaining slowly and always in secret. The thing was too difficult, too intimate for wholesale conversions. If ever Sarah came to know it fully, they hinted, she would understand.

Unsuccessful as Sarah was in getting into touch with Rufus Hollins, she was rejoiced to see that Thomas was more fortunate. The course of their religious lives had run smoothly during the last thirteen years. After the great commotion of the Perfectionist Revival, no other novelty had come to Delaville, and the storms and battles of conflicting creeds had seemed more or less remote. Neither Thomas nor Sarah had lost interest in religious exploration, but they had, as it were, paused in their own researches. They were thus all the more ready to be interested in the household next door, and when it grew clear that Thomas was to be admitted freely to the presence, it was felt to be a privilege indeed.

The two men presently came to be together whenever Thomas’s business set him free, and indeed also at times when he could ill be spared. The business began to suffer in consequence, but neither husband nor wife gave this a thought. Were not the concerns of the Lord the only true business there could be?

The talks of the two men were private, and it was in vain that Sarah tried to share them. Her husband told her she must be content to wait; the moment for her initiation was not yet. One slight concession she did secure, by dint of great perseverance, and that was the establishment of a small Bible Class on Monday evenings, to which she had permission to invite Anna and James, and a few of their intimate friends. It seemed a small enough thing, yet it was evident that Brother Rufus disliked it, and every week Sarah was afraid that he would not come. He always did, however, in the end, and his small congregation deeply appreciated his kindness.

Rufus Hollins was certainly a striking personality. Tall and rather bowed in figure, with a high forehead and hair as black as an Indian’s, it was his pale eyes which were the most noticeable thing in his face. When he stood with his Bible before him, expounding in his low voice the things most important on earth, it was difficult to resist the impression that he was a prophet indeed. He did not say much, but every word appeared the result of deep thought, and the emphasis of his tone, together with the unmistakable reserve of the two ladies who knew most about him, did not fail to impress the little circle in which he moved.

Unlike Thomas, his discourse was interspersed with many silences. He seemed to be in no haste, to be always reserving something, and it was evidently a great privilege to be allowed to share his thought.

As time went on, Sarah became so much enamoured of her new friends and their mysterious hold on the unseen, that she set out to proselytize on their behalf. Little though Mr. Hollins and his companions wanted it, she spread their fame among all their circle, and attendance at the Monday evenings increased. The existence of this holy man became fairly well known in the town, but as the circle of his admirers increased, so did his seclusion. Only on the Monday evenings was he to be seen at all.

James and Anna, although invited, were not among those who took the advantage of the privilege of attending; but one day, two months after the series began, they both arrived at the consecrated hour. Sarah and Thomas were delighted to see them, and if Rufus was uneasy at the two strange faces, he gave no sign. The discourse was as moving as ever, the prayer as intense. It was impossible for anyone, even James, to remain unmoved.

Apparently Sarah was right in thinking this, for James’s face was very grave, and as he bade her good night he held her hand for a long time in his.

“May I come and talk this over with you, Sarah?” he asked. “Could you see me to-morrow evening?” She was happy in the hope of another convert.

When he came, the next night, she led him into Thomas’s study, and the two of them sat down beside the fire.

“Sarah,” he began, when they were settled, “will you tell me all you know about your neighbours, and what doctrine it is they preach?”

She needed no second invitation, and gave at once a full and glowing account of her new friends and of their evident guiding from on high.

James listened silently, his eyes on the floor, and when she came to a stop he looked up at her with a grave and serious face.

“Sarah,” he said, “I feel it is my duty to give you a warning.”

“What do you mean, James; what warning?”

He pondered something before answering, and then he said:

“I know that you and Thomas do not consider me a Christian, Sarah, but I feel impelled to tell you something which I have told to no one in the world but Anna before.”

Sarah stared at her brother-in-law, and suddenly there came over her the memory of that conversation they had had so long ago. Was he going to talk to her again of all those heathen things?

“Before you say anything, James,” she said, “and before I get angry with you, as I daresay I shall if you speak against my friends, I want to thank you for your kind intention towards me.”

James smiled. He often found Sarah refreshing, and had much admiration for her good sense.

“Thank you, Sarah; I know you mean that,” he answered, “and I want you to believe that I wouldn’t speak against Mr. Hollins, or anyone you trusted, unless I felt a real concern on the subject.”

Sarah nodded a little brusquely. “Yes, yes, get on with it,” she seemed to say.

“I want to warn you against fanatics,” James began, “fanatics such as it is clear to me these people are. I have seen and heard this Rufus, as you know. You say he is led by the Lord, but believe me, he is very differently guided. When mystic signs and inner voices are part of a man’s creed, he is either insane, Sarah, or worse.”

“Do you really not believe in God, James?” was what Sarah answered.

“I do not say that, sister. You misunderstand me. What I do say, what indeed I know, both as a physician and as—as a sufferer, is that all secret doctrines and inward revelations are more dangerous than Rabies or Cholera.”

Sarah was utterly at a loss.

“How do you mean, dangerous?” she asked. “Isn’t it possible they may really be the teaching of the Lord?”

“No, Sarah, I don’t think it is possible; and I will tell you what makes me say it. When I was a young man, as you know, I went to Germany, and while I was there I fell in with a set of people who had, as your friends have, a special secret revelation from on High. They were more numerous, they formed a large body, and the wonder of it spread for miles around. They performed miracles, particularly healing the sick, and it was this which first drew me to them. Their leader was a man of apparently saintly life. He had wonderful powers, and was more eloquent than anyone I have ever encountered. He spoke with the tongue of angels, if ever a man did. Well, Sarah, I believed in what they taught. I gave up my studies, I followed them. And then I began to see how it was all done; I saw men and women falling into hysteria, and I was ensnared myself. And by degrees the raptures and the ecstacies in which I shared began to change. I saw them turn into excesses, plain sexual excesses of the grossest kind, still called by the most sacred names, still claiming to be the direct orders of God. And before I could free myself from it all I was involved in the trouble and the scandal of the crash.” He paused, much moved by the miserable, bitter memories he had evoked. Then, raising his head and looking straight at Sarah, he completed his thought.

“It was a sham, Sarah, as every such thing must be. God doesn’t work in secret by such narrow, furtive means. His prophets do not need this mixture of quackery and charlatanism and mania. God is nature, sunlight, health—oh sister, believe what I say! If you touch this evil thing, above all if you let Edmund or any young person touch it, you will regret it all your life.”

James was distressed, unlike himself. The telling of that old story, even in such bare outline, was intensely painful to him, and his effort and emotion were plain to Sarah’s eyes. And yet, of course, she was wholly unconvinced. That one man, and he a German, had been a failure, or even a scandal, proved nothing. James meant well, but he was embittered. Poor James!

As gently as she could Sarah rejected his wisdom. The story had made it very clear that he was not a Christian, and thereafter he was often in her prayers.