Again Berinthia noticed a flush upon the face of General Howe.
“I will admit, Miss Newville, that in war, the unexpected may sometimes happen, and possibilities are not comforting subjects for contemplation. I do not anticipate disaster to the troops under my command.”
“Shall we drink the health of our gracious sovereign?” said Mr. Newville.
The others drained their glasses, but Miss Newville’s and Berinthia’s were not lifted from the table.
“What, daughter! What is the meaning of this? Not drink the health of the king!” Mr. Newville exclaimed.
“No, father. I could drink to his own personal welfare, wish him health, happiness, and long life, but our drinking to the sentiment means approval of his government. I cannot do that. I never can think it right to burn the homes of innocent people without a moment’s warning, as was done at Charlestown. The people of Falmouth never had done anything against the king except to prevent Captain Mowatt from loading masts and spars on board his ship for the use of the king’s navy. That was their offense, and yet the town was wantonly destroyed. I cannot think such a course is likely to restore the alienated affections of the people to the king. More, I fear the contingencies of war may yet compel us to suffer because of these unwarranted acts.”
Mr. Newville sat in silence, not knowing what to say. He had been outspoken in his loyalty. He never had contemplated the possibility of failure on the part of the king to put down the rebellion, but if General Howe were to evacuate Boston, what treatment could he expect from the provincials? The words of Ruth brought the question before him in a startling way.
“Those are my sentiments, also,” said Berinthia.
“I see, Miss Brandon, that you are of the same opinion, which, of course, I expected in your case, but hardly from Miss Newville,” said Captain Coffin.