THE CALL OF DEBORAH
It was a long time that night before Phebe got to sleep. She had even
found it difficult to pray; this she tried to attribute to the unrest
Nanna had caused her. Over and over again did she return to Jim's
request, and each time seemed to find a fresh obstacle; the distance was
surely one great obstacle.
She tried her level best to rest on the firm conviction the work was not
hers, and then to consider how she was to make good her promise to find
some one who _would_ feel called to do it.
Would it be any good to appeal to the church? She shrank from that,
remembering her late experience.
What could she do! Did God intend to convince her the call was hers by
making it impossible for her to find a substitute?
All at once she remembered a committee had recently been formed in the
town consisting of representatives from various bodies, to attend to
certain social and religious wants of the district--the very thing
needed! The first thing she would do when morning light appeared, would
be to write to that committee, and with that restful thought she fell
asleep.
The letter was written and posted directly after breakfast, but not a
word to Nanna did she say about it. What a delight it would be when she
could all at once announce the fact that this important committee had
received her suggestion with grateful thanks and were commencing work at
once!
This said committee happened to meet on the following day. Stephen
Collins was a member of it. Mr. Bell, Bessie's superintendent, was the
honorary secretary.
Phebe's letter was the first to be read when the item "Correspondence"
on the agenda was reached.
In a very pompous voice the letter was read aloud. It had taken the
writer more than half-an-hour to frame, but it did not take many seconds
to read. This is a copy of it:
"DEAR SIRS,
"My attention has lately been drawn to the sad state of matters
among the men working at the railway-works at ----, especially
on Sundays. I believe the use of a shed could be obtained if
workers could be found to conduct a service there. I need
hardly say that for such men it would need to be a bright one,
and conducted on as fresh lines as possible. It is four miles
from Hadley, not too far for a strong man to walk. If you would
take up this work, I am sure it would be fulfilling the object
for which you were called together, and would bring honour to
God. It seems certainly very discreditable to the Christians of
this town that no hand has yet been stretched out to help these
men. Will you not retrieve our good name? If I can be of any
assistance or give any suggestions, I shall only be too happy
to do so.
"Yours, in Christian service,
"PHEBE WARING."
"There are your marching orders, gentlemen, and a captain ready provided
for you," said the honorary secretary sarcastically.
"I do not think that letter calls for any such remark," said Stephen
Collins. He was rather aghast at Mr. Bell's words, knowing nothing of
the stone Bessie had thrown into the waters. Mr. Bell gave him a very
fixed stare, causing Stephen Collins' face to grow very red. "I think it
is a splendid piece of work she points out, and one that we should in no
wise pass by."
"I think we have quite enough work upon our hands already," remarked the
chairman.
"Excuse me, sir," said Stephen, "I thought our duty was first to
ascertain how much needed to be done, and then to confer how best it is
to be accomplished. We are not here to do so much and no more."
"No one said we were," was the testy answer.
"It's a fine state of matters," remarked one member who always acted as
echo to the secretary, "if we are to be told our duty by a woman."
"And by such a woman," remarked the secretary.
"What do you mean, sir?" demanded Stephen.
"Oh, I forgot she was a special friend of yours; I am very sorry if I
offend"--this more blandly--"but I mean this: a woman whose husband was
obliged to leave her, even forfeiting thereby a profitable business, and
who is seen standing talking at the door of a low public-house, is not
the kind of woman to do the Deborah act for us. That's what I mean,"
bringing his hand forcibly down upon the table. "Indeed, I know it for a
fact that she was refused admittance as teacher to a certain Sunday
School in the town, where she had offered her services."
"That is a libel upon a good Christian woman," protested Stephen.
"Gentlemen, I think we had better pass on to the next business," said
the chairman.
"No, sir," said Stephen, restraining himself with great effort, "I am
about to move a resolution, and it is that an answer be sent to Mrs.
Waring, thanking her for drawing our attention to this call for service,
and assuring her it shall at once be considered how it can be met."
This was seconded by a special friend Stephen happened to have sitting
next to him.
"And I beg to move an amendment, Mr. Chairman," said the echo; "it is
that a reply be sent to Mrs. Waring to this effect:" and then he read a
letter which all knew Mr. Bell had previously written and passed on to
him.
"'DEAR MADAM,
"'Your esteemed communication to hand. It is strange, whoever
your informant was, that we were not the first to be put in
possession of the facts. We are obliged to you for your kind
offer, but it is not work at all suitable for women, and indeed
the workers would have to be very carefully chosen. At present
we have sufficient work in Hadley to occupy us. Perhaps at some
future time, when our committee is enlarged, we may be able to
take in both Hadley and district. We are, madam, yours
faithfully, on behalf of the committee, etc., etc.'"
The amendment was carried with only three dissentients out of fifteen.
One of the members remarked that no doubt the application would have met
with a different reception if it had come from some other quarter.
"Mark my words, gentlemen," said Mr. Bell, "Mrs. Waring will commence
the work herself. What she wanted was to be able to do so under our
auspices."
"And now," said the echo, with a drawl, "she will put it about that she
was obliged to do so because those dreadful men were too lazy and
indifferent. Trust a woman to make her side right."
Stephen said nothing; he prayed to be quiet, and the prayer was
answered. Love urged him to vindicate the honour of this defenceless
woman, but wisdom said, "If you love her, you will be silent."
All this part of the committee's business was duly retailed afterwards
by Mr. Bell to Mrs. and Miss Bell.
From that time, although Phebe never knew the reason why exactly, she
lost four good weekly customers. How many more these influenced could
not be reckoned, and in addition to this several people who had been in
the habit of saying "Good-day" to her as she met them in the street, now
passed her by with the coolest of nods.
The circle in the waters was spreading.
When the committee's letter was received Phebe was more than
disappointed; it was like a stab to the heart. For a little while the
keen pain was followed by a dazed feeling. It was some time before she
recovered sufficiently to fully understand the letter; then two
conclusions were arrived at: the first was the committee had no sympathy
with woman's work (it was entirely composed of men, although more than
half the work they had under consideration had to do with women and
children), and the other was that they had the same prejudice against
her that Bessie's superintendent had.
Then came three anxious questions. Should she show the letter to Nanna?
Having failed to find a substitute, had she now to consider the call a
personal one? How far was she justified in allowing men's prejudices to
hinder her?
The first was soon answered. It would be a poor return for all Nanna's
love to keep this fresh trouble from her; besides, Nanna would be sure
to supply answers quickly to the other questions.
"But shall I be ready to accept her answers?" Phebe asked herself. "I'll
wait and see; I am sure about nothing that concerns myself just now."
That evening, at their usual time of confidences, and in their usual
attitude, Phebe handed the letter to Nanna, giving no word of
explanation. Nanna got her glasses, and began at once to read. It took
her a minute or so to grasp whom the letter was from, and she turned
more than once to the heading of the paper.
"My poor child! You dear Phebe! But never mind; let us put this
cold-blooded letter on the fire. Think of it no more, and let us go back
to where we were the night Coates came. See, shall I?" holding the
letter over the fire.
[Illustration: "'LET US PUT THIS COLD-BLOODED LETTER ON THE FIRE.'"]
Phebe nodded, and they both watched it curl up into a black mass, and
then sink down into the heart of the fire.
"Shall we go back, Phebe, dear?"
"What does that mean, Nanna?"
"That you give God your answer."
"That I am willing to do that work myself?"
"Yes."
"And do you really think I could?" looking up into the strong, brave
face bending over her.
"Yes, I do; it is God's call, and He is sure to give you all you need.
Will you?"
There was a pause, and then a faint "Yes," but Nanna knew, though faint,
it was meant. And there and then, without altering their position, Nanna
prayed: "I thank Thee, dear Father, for this honour Thou art putting on
my dear Phebe. Perhaps it is in some way to make up for the dishonour
some have put upon her. Through the delay in answering Thee she has
brought fresh pain to herself, but forgive her and comfort her, dear
Father. Open up the way for her in this piece of work, everything going
so smoothly that thereby she may see Thy dear hand in all, and be
assured Thou art with her. Give her, dear Lord, to-morrow, if Thou seest
it will be good, some extra bit of comfort to make up for what has
wounded her so sorely to-day. May she be another of Thy brave Deborahs.
We are in Thy hands; never let us even wish to be anywhere else, and do
let us each feel the touch of those blessed hands."
The next day at dinner, to everybody's surprise, Mrs. Colston announced
that in all probability Mrs. Waring was going next Sunday afternoon to
hold a meeting among the navvies.
"You don't say so!" exclaimed Bessie; "then I shall go, too. It wouldn't
be the proper thing, you know, to let her go alone."
"And couldn't you sing a bit?" asked Nanna.
"Yes, I would if Mrs. Waring would like me to do so." Bessie had a very
nice voice, but was never very confident of herself as a singer.
Phebe only smiled an answer. She was still feeling too nervous to talk
much about the plan. Later on, Reynolds said: "I have been thinking,
Mrs. Waring, they are rather a rough sort you are going among; if you've
no objection, I should like to accompany you."
And a little later, when Jones heard all about these arrangements, he
exclaimed: "I'm not going to be left out, I'm sure. I'm coming, too; and
if you've no portable organ or anything of that kind lent you, I could
bring my concertina." He had a beautiful English concertina, and was
really a very good player.
"Splendid!" exclaimed Bessie, "we'll all gather round 'The Little
Missis,'--that we will!"
"I am sure you are all too good to me," said Phebe, with tears in her
eyes, for she realised that all these offers were made out of pure
devotion towards her, no higher motive as yet being apparent.
"There, dear heart!" exclaimed Nanna, "there's the answer straightway."
"What answer?" forgetting for the moment to what she referred.
"Don't you remember what I asked the Lord for last night? A special bit
of comfort to come to you to-day, and there it is straightway in the
offer of these loving young hearts!"
It struck Reynolds as a rather new idea that anything he did should be
described as an answer to prayer. If that were so, God must often be
very near to him, influencing him. The thought made him feel very quiet.