“They were captured from a French ship in 1746 by Captain Grushea of the Queen of Hungary privateer,” Tom whispered. “They were designed for a Romish church in Canada, but the captain brought them to Boston and presented them to the wardens of this church.”
Berinthia said the Bible and prayer-book were given by King George II. at the request of Governor Belcher. She found the places in the prayer-book for him. He thought the prayers very beautiful, but could not quite see the need of getting up and sitting down so often. He never had taken part in meeting before, but when all the others read felt he too must let his voice be heard, otherwise the people would think he did not know how to read. He was startled at the sound of his own voice, but soon got over it, and rather liked the idea of the people taking some part in the service instead of having it all done by the minister. It was very delightful when the choir came in with the organ, in contrast to the singing in Rumford meetinghouse where the deacon lined the Psalms, two lines at a time, and set the tune with his pitch-pipe.
When the service was over and the people were going out, the organ began to play. The sexton took them upstairs to see his brother John handle it. Robert was surprised to see him using his feet as well as his hands, fingering two sets of keys, pushing in and pulling out what Tom said were “stops.” When through with the piece, the organist explained the mechanism of the instrument, playing softly and then making the windows rattle.
An hour at noon, and then the meetinghouse bells were tolling for the afternoon service.
“We will go to our own meeting; I want you to hear Reverend Doctor Cooper,”[30] said Berinthia. The meetinghouse was in Brattle Street, close by the barracks. The soldiers were lounging around the building staring at the people, laughing, smoking their pipes, and making rude remarks. When meeting was over the soldiers gathered around the door and leered at the girls. Robert clenched his fist and felt his blood grow hot. A lieutenant started to walk beside Berinthia.
“My cousin will not need your escort, sir,” said Robert touching his elbow.
The officer grew red in the face and disappeared in the barracks.
On Monday morning Robert bade his friends good-by. Peter Augustus had something for him at the Green Dragon: a basket filled with fruit—melocotoons, pears, and plums—and a neatly written note.
“Will Mr. Walden kindly take a basket of fruit to his sister, Miss Rachel, from Ruth Newville.”