Darkness
Chapter 61

May 24, 1812

Gregor’s

As dawn breaks, the child is almost entirely healed. The Seer’s touch, constant throughout the night, has essentially burned the yellow fever infection away. Gregor has not had the opportunity before now to remain so focused on one patient for so long. He has had to disguise his purpose, make his touches fleeting, give the appearance that he was performing ordinary nursing duties. So the infirmary patients mostly experienced a hand on the forehead, on the shoulder, a cloth rubbing away sweat or tears or bile. But only for a moment. Even those brief touches had a substantial impact, and the patients were all well enough to return home after only a day or two of illness, much briefer than with typical yellow fever infections. Only with Smith did the effectiveness of the touch fail, but his illness was far more advanced when he was brought to the infirmary, and the Seer was interrupted when he tried to prolong the effort.

Jake, though, has benefitted from a long night of contact with the Seer. My beloved has held the boy in his lap for hours, touching him extensively, the child pressed to Gregor’s chest, arms wrapped around him, focusing on healing, directing the flow of my energy. His huge dog Tiger, who followed Gregor in from the study, has remained curled up on the floor in Jake’s room, sharing his master’s vigil.

Gregor hears footsteps upstairs when Rosalind rises near dawn to go into the nursery and tend to Vernon who has awakened, and it makes him feel bad not to have performed his usual duty. But he knows that his wife will understand once he explains to her what happened. He does not wish to let go of Jake until the child awakens, taking full advantage of the opportunity for uninterrupted healing.

Finally, the child stirs on my beloved’s lap, takes a deep breath, and opens his eyes. He is confused for a moment to replace himself in this position. “Good morning,” Gregor murmurs, “how are you feeling?”

Jake slides off of Gregor’s lap, and sits on the side of the bed, rubbing his eyes. Now that he is no longer holding the child, my poor darling stands and stretches, feeling very stiff after several hours of sitting in one position while holding the boy.

“Um, I think I feel fine,” Jake says. He looks up at Gregor, perplexed.

“He is thinking that, if not for the fact that you are still in here, he would think that he only dreamed feeling unwell overnight.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Gregor says. “Perhaps you didn’t have yellow fever after all.”

Jake shakes his head, and slowly says, “No, I really did feel awful. You said you knew how to take care of me, though. I think that’s what happened. You took care of me.” He looks very sincerely at the man who has taken him into his home, transformed his life, the father figure who he has truly grown to love. “Thank you for staying with me.”

Gregor smiles, rubs Jake’s head, and says, “I’m just happy that you’re feeling better. For today I think you should take it easy. Just stay inside, rest, don’t do any chores. And, er, don’t go down the hill to evaluate the flatboat lumber stacks today, eh?” He chuckles at the child’s shocked expression.

Samuel Postlethwaite

I am eager to attend worship today. I have a great deal to give thanks for. My little Matilda Rose is restored to health, only three days after she suffered the onset of yellow fever and the terrifying seizure on our way down the hill. My nephew Samuel came to examine her yesterday afternoon and told her that she could get back to her usual routine, a relief to the household servants who have been quite at her beck and call from the nursery.

Nobody else in the family seems to have caught the dread disease, not even the servants. My dear Ann is well, her pregnancy leaving her somewhat fatigued but otherwise glowing with good health. So I am pleased that our family is here, sitting in our front pew of the Methodist chapel, ready to hear Pastor Colbert’s sermon, and to give thanks to the Lord for our good fortune. I intend to double my usual offering today in token of my appreciation of the Lord’s grace.

Our pastor comes to the lectern, and after greetings and an opening hymn, he begins the sermon. “We have cause today for both rejoicing and for grief, for losses suffered and victories won.”

I wonder warily what losses he is referring to. He goes on, “I must share the very sad news that we have lost one of our Brothers in Christ, a devoted member of this very church. Patrolman Frederick Smith has been lost to the scourge of yellow fever. Taken in the prime of his life before dawn yesterday morning, he now rests in the bosom of our Lord. I was with him when he died, sharing with him the Word of God, and communing with him in prayer. He died as he lived, a Godly man, full of the holy spirit. I could sense the moment that Jesus welcomed our brother to join him at the right hand of the Father.”

He falls silent for a minute, to allow the congregation to react to the tragic news. I might not have been a dear friend of the departed, but he was a member of my congregation, so it feels very close to home. I also feel it, deeply, that the same disease which took Smith’s life, spared the life of my own precious child.

Perhaps I should triple my weekly offering.

The pastor continues after the murmurs and whispers of the audience die down. “There is also cause for rejoicing, though, for we must celebrate the fact that the lost soul of a member of this community might yet be redeemed.”

Oh? That is interesting news. I exchange a glance with my brother Henry who is sitting next to me, with Ann at my other side.

“For two months now,” Pastor Colbert goes on, “I have earnestly prayed to the Lord to open the eyes of a man who had rightly suffered the chastisement of our departed brother Smith himself. This man had violated the law, had set himself above the rules of God and man, had chosen to lift those ordained by God to slavery above their station. Our brother Smith, in providing instruction to this man, attracted the very attention of the Holy Spirit, whose visitation at Smith’s justified whipping of this man was felt by every member of this community.”

Henry meets my eyes again. Yes, Pastor Colbert is talking about Gregor. He hasn’t mentioned him for a couple of weeks, he has focused mostly on the Indians and the British. I wonder why he has returned to this topic?

“It has grieved me deeply to know that a man, who is a well-known member of our community, might have gone so astray from God’s light. I have hoped that the lesson that he was taught by our brother Smith, and the fervent prayers I have prayed to intercede on his behalf, might lead him back to the truth of God’s will.”

Yes, we know, we have heard this many times. But the sermon takes a different turn.

“I am filled with joy to report that I believe that my efforts, my prayers, my teachings, might finally be bearing fruit. I believe that the man, who has been so ostentatious in his disdain of the will of the Lord, might be finally making an effort to return to God’s favor.”

“Hallelujah,” and “Praise Jesus,” I hear from different congregants, while we wait to hear what Gregor has done to attract this praise.

“Not only has he humbly offered his services to the town’s doctor, another of our congregants, Doctor Duncan, in treating the yellow fever which has sickened our townsfolk in the past few days, but he also is the person who summoned me to the bedside of our brother Smith. Because of him, Smith met his maker with his pastor by his side, with the Word of God in his ears, with a prayer in his heart, and peace in his soul.”

I lift my eyebrows, look at Henry, and hear the murmuring of the other people in the church. I knew, of course, that Gregor had offered the newly built boarding house to use as an infirmary, but I had not considered the possibility that this was an act of faith. I had thought it to be a simple act of neighborliness. Perhaps it really was an act of faith, though, a Christlike service to his community. I am quite surprised, though, to hear that Gregor is the one who notified the pastor about Smith’s illness. He did that for Smith, after what Smith did to him? Maybe Pastor Colbert is right, and Gregor really is doing it to please God, because I simply can’t imagine what other motivation he would have to try to comfort the man who had hurt him so badly.

It is quite perplexing.

“Whatever sins this man may have committed in the past, I believe that God has forgiven him. His excellent service to this community, his seeking me out to provide spiritual solace to our dying brother, convinces me that Gregor Slavson has accepted the truth of the Holy Spirit, and has seen fit to humbly submit to the will of God. I rejoice in this, and for the first time name him directly, as I bring the Good News of his redemption, his salvation from the sins of his prior actions. May God grant his continued enlightenment, and may we soon welcome him to worship together with us, as a right and God-fearing member of this community!”

It is very satisfactory to finally hear such positive words spoken of my friend, especially after what he did for me and Matilda the other night.

The pastor continues, “It is my belief that the entire episode with Mr. Slavson has been a direct teaching by the Lord, a lesson for the entire community to learn. We all must observe the results, and rejoice in the presence of a man so special that God sent the Holy Spirit himself to attend upon him during his chastisement. I believe that he is chosen by God to be an example to us all, to show that sin can be forgiven, and that even a sinner can be exalted before God, once he submits to the Word and learns to truly love and serve the community. Through faith and good works, Mr. Slavson has become a Godly man himself.”

He looks around the chapel, and concludes, “Amen!”

Oh my!

Gregor

It’s a quiet day around our house. I have told Rosalind everything that happened last night, and she is insisting on pampering Jake, even though the lad really does feel fine now. I think it best to take one day off to do nothing strenuous, but it is more to just let him relax. I think his health is fine now.

Vernon is upstairs napping, and the three of us are in the parlor. Rosalind served the simple breakfast that Nadine had left for us, and now we are enjoying quiet pursuits. Rosalind stitches her design, and Jake is reading a simple primer that Jack had given him from the introductory books available at school. I am looking through the notes I have written, preparing to conduct the wedding ceremony for Dalila and Moses. I’m trying to think of just the right words to say to help them start their lives together.

“Jack is coming,” Wolk tells me, “normally on Sundays Jake would have arrived at his house by now to collect him for a day exploring and playing together.”

I stand to open the door as Rosalind’s brother is arriving. “Hey, Jack, come in,” I tell him.

He looks over at Jake, and slightly lifts his shoulders, as though to ask what on earth he is doing sitting here reading quietly.

Jake says, “Uh, I was sick last night, so Gregor said I should stay home today.”

“You’re welcome to stay, Jack, and keep him company,” Rosalind says.

“Oh, all right,” her brother says, coming in and going over to his best friend.

Jake tells us, “Um, we’re going to my room.”

“Have fun,” I say. “Just don’t get too rowdy. Remember, you’re recovering still.”

I grin at Rosalind after they run to the back room, move over to give her a little kiss, then sit back down to peruse my notes. I cross off one line, and write another. I reach down to scratch Tiger's ears, as he lays his head across my lap as usual.

Wolk interrupts me. “Pastor Colbert is giving his sermon,” he tells me. He used to give me a complete rundown of every sermon, but they have grown less interesting of late. He is far more interested lately in riling up the community against the British and the Natives than he is complaining about me.

I think to him, “Oh, I suppose that I reminded him of my existence the other night, and now he has to complain to the congregation about me some more?”

He smirks, an odd twist to his wolfish features. “What?” I ask.

“It is quite the opposite. He is praising you for your good work in the community, and for arranging it so that he was present when Smith died.”

Oh good lord. I suppress a laugh at my own pun, and Rosalind looks at me curiously. I tell her quietly, “Apparently Pastor Colbert is telling the church today that I’m not so bad after all, since I had fetched him to be with Smith the night he died.”

Her eyebrows lift.

“Colbert has concluded his sermon by telling the parishioners that you are Chosen by God as an example of a Godly man redeemed from sin by faith and good works.”

I openly stare at him. “You’re joking.”

“I never joke, darling.”

I start moaning, “No, no, no!” while I also helplessly laugh, trying to be quiet so the boys don’t come running back out to see what is going on.

“What?” Rosalind demands. “Is something wrong?” She sees me laughing, so she knows whatever it is it isn’t serious.

“Oh, it’s so bad!” I laugh, and try to catch my breath. “Apparently I have gone from being the worst example of depravity, to being chosen by the lord as an example of Godliness!”

She smirks, then shrugs. “Well, that’s better, right? I’d rather the pastor be complimenting you than attacking you.”

I shake my head ruefully. “Oh, this will just attract more attention to me. Better his disdain than his praise. I would rather the members of the church look at me like I’m a sinner, than like I’m some kind of holy example.”

She starts to see the humor, and her lips twitch. “Well, Gregor, life is never dull with you, I’ll give you that!”