Phædra's decrepitude confined her closely at home.
But the brothers and sisters of her church did not leave her alone in her sorrow. They came frequently, they ministered to all her necessities, material and spiritual, as far as she had need, and they had power. They held a weekly prayer-meeting at her house.
And these Thursday evening meetings were sources of great comfort to the desolate woman.
Fannie was frequently present at them. And the old negro preacher, Elisha, was invariable in his punctual attendance. There was also another, a constant, though an unknown and unsuspected worshipper among them.
Valentine's name had long died off from every tongue, as his memory seemed to have expired from every heart. Even in comforting Phædra her friends never designated the nature of her grief; and, in praying for the Lord's mercy upon their "aged sister in her sore affliction," they never named that affliction's cause. And though the unhappy man was remembered in their petitions, it was in silence and in secrecy.
One Thursday evening, while the March winds were piping through the pine barrens, Phædra was holding a prayer-meeting in her cabin.
There were about twenty negroes, both men and women, present.
Among them was the old preacher, Elisha, who led the devotions.
Fannie was also present, with her child. And the look of wild anxiety that occasionally varied the heart-broken expression of her face seemed now fixed; her usually patient, suffering countenance was absolutely haggard with terror, and strong shudders shook her frame.
Phædra watched her with great uneasiness.
Meantime the meeting went on in its services, and they sang, prayed and exhorted in turn. It was not what is technically called a "good" meeting. Few seemed to enjoy the privilege of prayer, or to possess the gift of exhortation. The very singing was tame and lifeless. There seemed to be some spell of heaviness cast over all. At last, toward the close of the evening, an aged brother arose, and began in a strain of such wild eloquence, as deep, earnest, fervid emotions confer upon untutored minds, to exhort his brethren and sisters of the church upon the subject of their apathy and lukewarmness. I can do no justice to that wild, eyrie style of oratory. It impressed, affected and strongly excited his hearers. He concluded with _outre_ expressions and gesticulations: