“And why should we only pray,” said the woman sternly, “when did Heaven ever answer prayer, except when our own actions carried the prayer into effect. Have you not learned, have you not known, hath it not been told you from the foundation of the world, that faith without works was dead.”
“But there is no part which a woman can consistently take in such a contest as the present, even should she so far forget her true duties as to wish to engage in it.”
“Girl, have you read your bible, or are you one of those children of the scarlet woman of Babylon, to whom the word of God is a closed book—to whom the waters from the fountain of truth can only come through the polluted lips of priests—as unclean birds feed their offspring. Do you not know that it was a woman, even Rahab, who saved the spies sent out from Shittem to view the land of promise? Do you not know that Miriam joined with the hosts of Israel in the triumph of their deliverance from the hand of Pharaoh? Do you not know that Deborah, the wife of Lapidoth, judged Israel, and delivered Jacob from the hands of Jabin, king of Canaan, and Sisera the captain of his host—and did not Jael, the wife of Heber the Kenite, rescue Israel from the hands of Sisera? Surely she fastened the nail in a sure place, and the wife of Sisera, tarried long ere his chariot should come—and shall we in these latter days of Israel be less bold than they? Tell me not of prayers, Virginia Temple, cowards alone pray blindly for assistance. It is the will of God that the brave should be often under Heaven, the answerers of their own prayers.”
“And pray tell me,” said Virginia, struck with the wild, biblical eloquence of the Puritan woman, “why you have thus come to me among so many of the damsels of Virginia, to urge me to engage in this enterprise.”
“Because I was sent. Because one of the captains of our host has sought the hand of Virginia Temple. Ah, blush, maiden, for the blush of shame well becomes one who has deserted her lover, because he has laid aside every weight, and pressed forward to the prize of his high calling. Yet a little while, and the brave men of Virginia will be here to show the malignant Berkeley, that the servant is not greater than his lord—that they who reared up this temple of his authority, can rase it to the ground and bury him in its ruins. I come from Thomas Hansford, to ask that you will under my guidance meet him where I shall appoint to-night.”
“This is most strange conduct on his part,” said Virginia, flushing with indignation, “nor will I believe him guilty of it. Why did he entrust a message like this to you instead of writing?”
“A warrior writes with his sword and in blood,” replied the woman. “Think you that they who wander in the wilderness, are provided with pen or ink to write soft words of love to silly maidens? But he foresaw that you would refuse, and he gave me a token—I fear a couplet from a carnal song.”
“What is it?” cried Virginia, anxiously.
“'I had not loved thee, dear, so much,
Loved I not honour more,'”
said the woman, in a low voice. “Thus the words run in my memory.”