He stood for a moment facing them before he took his place.He was a man of great size, old now but holding himself absolutely erect.He was dressed in a plain black gown with a low, white collar and a white tie.This long gown added to his height, but the width of the shoulders and neck, and the carriage of his head showed that he was a man built on a noble scale.His hair was snow-white and he wore a beard, that was in startling contrast against his black gown.His cheeks were of high colour, his eyes blue; he was older than Maggie had expected and must, she thought, be over seventy.His whole bearing and behaviour was of a man who had enjoyed great physical health.His expression was mild and simple, dignified but not proud, utterly unconscious of self, earnest and determined, lacking in humour perhaps.There was nothing in the least theatrical about him and yet he conveyed an impression that was startling and dramatic.
His was a figure that would have been noticed anywhere, if only for its physical health and shining cleanliness.Maggie felt that to many people there his entrance was a sensation, sought for and expected by them.So startling was the impression that he made upon herself that she wondered that the chapel was not crowded by an excited throng.She liked him at once, felt that she would be at ease with him as she had never been with anybody in her life.And yet behind this there was perhaps some subtle sense of disappointment.He was not mysterious, he did not seem very clever;he was only an old man, magnificently preserved.There was no fear nor wonder in her attitude to him.He could not convince her, she thought, of things that she herself had not seen.
He knelt and prayed for a moment before his desk, then he rose and, with his hands resting on the wood before him, said: "Let us offer thanks to Almighty God that He has kept us in safety and in health during the past week." They all knelt down.He prayed then, in a voice that was soft and clear and that hid behind the words a little roughness of accent that was not unpleasant.His prayer was extempore, and he addressed God intimately and almost conversationally."Thou knowest how we are weak and foolish, our faults are all known to Thee and our blunders are not hid, therefore we thank Thee that Thou hast not been impatient with us, but, seeing that we are but little children in Thy hands, hast deemed the thunderbolt too heavy for our heads and the lightning too blinding for our eyes.With humble hearts we thank Thee, and pray that Thou wilt keep us mindful of Thy coming, that we may be found watching, with our loins girt and our lamps lit, waiting in prayer for Thy dreadful day..."During this prayer Maggie was conscious of a strange excitement.She knelt with her eyes tightly closed, but through the darkness she felt as though he were addressing her alone.She seemed to approach him, to feel his hands upon her shoulders, to hear his voice in her ears.When she rose at the ending of the prayer it was as though she had definitely passed through some door into a new room.Then, rising, she was conscious that the laughing eyes of the young lady in blue were again trying to hold her own.She refused to look--she coloured, hanging her head so that her eyes should not be caught.
For some time she was unaware of the progress of the service.Then the clear emphasis of his voice caught again her attention."Our lesson for to-day," he said, "is from the Fortieth Chapter of Isaiah." He proceeded to read:
Comfort ye, comfort ye my people, saith your God.
Speak ye comfortably to Jerusalem, and cry unto her, that her warfare is accomplished, that her iniquity is pardoned: for she hath received of the Lord's hand double for all her sins.
The voice of him that crieth in the wilderness, Prepare ye the way of the Lord, make straight in the desert a highway for our God.
Every valley shall be exalted, and every mountain and hill shall be made low: and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough places plain:
And the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together: for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it.
The voice said, Cry.And he said, What shall I cry? All flesh is grass, and all the goodliness thereof is as the flower of the field:
...
The grass withereth, the flower fadeth; but the word of our God shall stand for ever.
O Zion, that bringest good tidings, get thee up into the high mountain; 0 Jerusalem, that bringest good tidings, lift up thy voice with strength; lift it up, be not afraid; say unto the cities of Judah, Behold your God!
Behold, the Lord God will come with strong hand, and his arm shall rule for him; behold, his reward is with him, and his work before him.
He shall feed his flock like a shepherd; he shall gather the lambs with his arm, and carry them in his bosom, and shall gently lead those that are with young.
How many times had Maggie heard the reading of those words.They brought instantly back to her her father's voice, the strange snuffling hurry with which he hastened to the end, his voice hesitating a little as his wandering eye caught the misbehaviour of some small boy in the choir.
Now the words were charged with a conviction that was neither forced nor adopted for dramatic effect.It was as though a herald read some proclamation for his master who was approaching the gates of the city.The hymns and prayers that followed seemed to have no importance.The hymns happened on that day to be familiar ones that Maggie had always known: "As pants the hart for cooling streams,""Just as I am, without one plea" and "Jerusalem the golden." These were sung, of course, slowly, badly and sentimentally, the harmonium screaming in amazing discords, and the deep and untuneful voices of some members of the congregation drowning the ladies and placing a general discord upon everything.
