The Come-Outer chapel was as bare inside,almost,as it was without.Bare wooden walls,a beamed ceiling,a raised platform at one end with a table and chairs and the melodeon upon it,rows of wooden settees for the congregation--that was all.As the minister entered,the worshipers were standing up to sing.Three or four sputtering oil lamps but dimly illumined the place and made recognition uncertain.
The second verse of the hymn was just beginning as Ellery came in.
Most of the forty or more grown people in the chapel were too busy wrestling with the tune to turn and look at him.A child here and there in the back row twisted a curious neck but twisted back again as parental fingers tugged at its ear.The minister tiptoed to a dark corner and took his stand in front of a vacant settee.
The man whom Ellery had decided must be Captain Eben Hammond was standing on the low platform beside the table.A quaint figure,patriarchal with its flowing white hair and beard,puritanical with its set,smooth-shaven lips and tufted brows.Captain Eben held an open hymn book back in one hand and beat time with the other.He wore brass-bowed spectacles well down toward the tip of his nose.
Swinging a heavy,stubby finger and singing in a high,quavering voice of no particular register,he led off the third verse:
Oh,who shall weep when the roll is called And who shall shout for joy?The melodeon and the hymn book were in accord as to the tune,but Captain Eben and the various members of the congregation seemed to have a desire to improvise.They sang with spirit,however,and the rhythmic pat of feet grew louder and louder.Here and there men and women were swaying and rocking their bodies in time to the music.The chorus for each verse was louder than the one preceding it.
Another hymn was given out and sung.And another and still another.The windows rattled.The patting grew to a steady thump!thump!Momentary pauses between lines were punctuated by hallelujahs and amens.Standing directly in front of the minister was a six-foot,raw-boned individual whose clothes smelled strongly of fish,and whose hands,each swung at the end of an exposed five inches of hairy red wrist,looked like flippers.At the end of the third hymn this personage sprang straight up into the air,cracked the heels of a pair of red cowhide boots together,and whooped:
Glory be!Send the PAOWER!in a voice like the screech of a northeast gale.Mr.Ellery,whom this gymnastic feat had taken by surprise,jumped in sympathy,although not as high.
The singing over,the worshipers sat down.Captain Eben took a figured handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead.The thin,nearsighted young woman who had been humped over the keyboard of the melodeon,straightened up.The worshipers relaxed a little and began to look about.
Then the captain adjusted his spectacles and opened a Bible,which he took from the table beside him.Clearing his throat,he announced that he would read from the Word,tenth chapter of Jeremiah:
Thus saith the Lord.Learn not the way of the heathen,and be not dismayed at the signs of heaven;for the heathen are dismayed at them.
For the customs of the people are vain:for one cutteth a tree out of the forest,the work of the hands of the workmen,with the ax.He read in a measured singsong,stopping occasionally to hold the book in a better light and peering at the fine print through his spectacles.And as he read,there was a sudden rustle on one of the back benches.A child had turned,stared,and pulled at its mother's sleeve.The rustle grew and spread.
Captain Eben drawled on to the twentieth verse:
My tabernacle is spoiled and all my cords are broken:my children are gone forth from me,and they are not:there is none to stretch forth my tent any more,and to set up my curtains!
For the pastors are become brutish and have not sought the Lord:therefore they shall not prosper,and--
A-MEN!
The shout came from the second bench from the front,where Ezekiel Bassett,clam digger and fervent religionist,was always to be found on meeting nights.Ezekiel was the father of Susannah B.
Bassett,Sukey B.for short,who played the melodeon.He had been,by successive seizures,a Seventh Day Baptist,a Second Adventist,a Millerite,a Regular,and was now the most energetic of Come-Outers.Later he was to become a Spiritualist and preside at table-tipping seances.
Ezekiel's amen was so sudden and emphatic that it startled the reader into looking up.Instead of the faces of his congregation,he found himself treated to a view of their back hair.Nearly every head was turned toward the rear corner of the room,there was a buzz of whispering and,in front,many men and women were standing up to look.Captain Eben was scandalized.
Well!he exclaimed.Is this a prayer meetin'or--or--what?Brethren and sisters,I must say--
Ezekiel Bassett stepped forward and whispered in his ear.The captain's expression of righteous indignation changed to one of blank astonishment.He,too,gazed at the dark corner.Then his lips tightened and he rapped smartly on the table.
Brethren and sisters,he thundered,in the voice which,of old,had enforced obedience aboard his coasting schooner,remember this is the house of the Lord.Be reverent!He waited until every eye had swung about to meet his.Then he regarded his abashed but excited hearers with a steady and prolonged stare.
My friends,he said,let us bow in prayer.John Ellery could have repeated that prayer,almost word for word,years after that night.The captain prayed for the few here gathered together:Let them be steadfast.Let them be constant in the way.The path they were treading might be narrow and beset with thorns,but it was the path leading to glory.
