were nearly always the first to go forward and proclaim that they had been saved. He could see a couple of the girls swaying and knew that they would soon fall to their knees, caught up in the emotion of the day. Sure enough, a yellow-haired girl threw herself to the ground, crying, “I’ve got it! I’ve got it!”
This was what Simpson had been waiting for. “Got what?” he cried from the platform.
“I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” the girl shrieked.
“What have you got?” said Simpson in return, and the crowd joined him in asking, “What have you got?”
“I’ve got the Grace of the Lord!” she cried.
“Hallelujah!” called Simpson.
“Hallelujah!” the crowd echoed.
Right on cue, two more girls fell forward at this, and several young men followed. One of them in particular caught Lewis’s eye. He was rather weedy-looking, with greasy hair, and dressed far more shabbily than those around him. He threw himself in front of the platform and began to moan. “I’ve got it! I’ve got it!” he shouted, in imitation of the first girl.
“What have you got, young man? What have you got?”
“I’ve got the spirit of Jesus Christ Our Lord,” he cried. He began to moan and writhe, but all the time Lewis could see that he was watching the girls out of the corner of one eye. He realized that Rachel had noticed this too, and she had a wary look on her face.
“That’s that Morgan Spicer,” she said. “I can only hope the Lord improves his personality along with his soul.” Her hand flew up to her mouth as she realized what she had said and who she had said it to, but Lewis laughed.
“I take it you know him?”
“Yes, he’s a pest,” she replied, but elaborated no further.
As Lewis himself had just been entertaining similar sentiments about William Case, he didn’t feel he could rightly chastise the girl for being uncharitable.
One by one, worshippers went to the front of the platform and threw themselves to the ground, and with each one the crowd would yell out encouragement. The meeting was building to a gratifying level of frenzy when Simpson decided enough was enough for the time being and called for a hymn. Breaking off the frenetic pace now would make people all the more eager to come forward later to be a part of the grand awakening.
“All people that on earth do dwell,” Simpson sang out. As well as being a fine exhorter, he had a good ear and a deep baritone voice that carried well.
“All people that on earth do dwell,” three hundred voices sang back at him. Lewis noticed Rachel’s was not one of them. She did, however, have rather a rapt expression on her face, and when the crowd began to clap their hands in time, she joined in.
“Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice.”
“Sing to the Lord with cheerful voice,” came the response. Lewis was rather sorry that the crowd had started to clap, though, as it made the song sound like a march, and dragged the tempo down.
By the time the next speaker climbed the platform, Lewis was aware that the sun was beating down on his neck and he turned to find his way to a shadier spot. As he and Rachel threaded their way through to the back, he asked, “Why didn’t you sing along with the hymn?”
“I’ve not sung enough to develop any kind of voice.” She laughed. “Truth be told, I can scarcely carry a tune. I’ve always liked that particular hymn, though. It’s rather lovely, isn’t it?”
She was right. It was lovely, and as much as he didn’t much like these meetings, he did like to hear all those voices singing together, especially when it was “The Old Hundredth,” one of his favourites.
“You should sing anyway,” he said. “The Lord doesn’t mind if it’s not in tune.”
“But the people standing next to me might. It would certainly drive all the loveliness out of the hymn.” She giggled as she said this, and he could do nothing but smile back at her.
He left her with Minta, and was immediately claimed by Mr. Varney, who wanted to rehash the incident in the Demorestville churchyard, and Mrs. Varney, who wanted to fill him in on the shortcomings of those who had stepped forward during the morning.
“That girl with the yellow hair is no better than she should be,” she said. “I sincerely hope she’s found the Lord and will mend her ways.”
“Well, be assured the Lord can work miracles,” he replied.
“I notice that Rachel Jessup was sticking pretty close to you. Is she thinking of joining the society?”
“I don’t know. She’s here with her sister-in-law and was only standing with me because Minta needed to sit down.”
“Poor Minta — married to that great hulk of a man. You can tell he’s a brute just by the look of him. I suppose she’s expecting and that’s why she looks so tired.”
He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if he had been given that information in confidence or not and, after all, Betsy had already figured it out. He had just about decided that it didn’t matter when Mrs. Varney went on.
“You can tell, with some of them. They start looking peaky as soon as the child starts. Some women just aren’t cut out for easy childbirth. I suppose that’s why Rachel is living with them, to help out.”
“Yes, that’s my understanding.”
Mrs. Varney snorted. “I don’t know how much help she is. Every time you look around there’s a mob of boys around her. Not that I’ve ever heard anything against the girl, mind, but you have to wonder. They always say that where there’s smoke, there’s sure to be fire. You just really have to wonder.”
“Well, no, Mrs. Varney, you don’t. You don’t have to wonder at all.” He nodded his goodbyes and began to walk around the edge of the crowd, many of whom were lighting fires in preparation for the evening meal while giving half an ear to the preacher on the platform.
He stepped around old folks, mothers and babies, and small children playing at the edge of the field. As he picked his way through an entire encampment of what seemed to be one huge, extended family, he stumbled into the small weaselly boy that Rachel had commented on with disgust, who had been picking his way in the opposite direction.
“Isn’t this wonderful,” he exclaimed when he realized that he had bumped into a minister. “It’s incredible to see the spirit of the Lord at work. By the way, I saw that you were standing with Rachel Jessup. You don’t happen to know which way she went, do you?”
So, he had been right. Morgan Spicer’s mind had been on girls instead of on the Lord.
“I believe she’s sitting with her sister-in-law at the other side of the field,” he said. “What did you want her for?”
He seemed a little taken aback at the directness of the question. “Why, to let her know that I’m saved, that I have seen the glory of the Lord. Besides, I have a present for her.”
He opened his
