“Yes, we’ll go,” said Tim; “we haven’t been to church since we were lads in t’vorest, excepting on board ship, and that ain’t ’zactly church.”
“That’s settled then; I’ll look out for you two to-morrow evening. You will like Parson Tabor; he is a good man.”
When the brothers entered the church next evening they found it crammed to suffocation, and with difficulty they followed Captain Marvin to the Governor’s pew.
The grand and solemn tones of the organ were playing a voluntary as they passed up the aisle,—music which sounded sweet and soothing to their unaccustomed ears.
During the prayers which followed, our foresters carefully imitated Mrs. Marvin in kneeling, standing, or sitting, as the case might be. She also helped them to find their places in the prayer-book, when at a loss.
Prayers over, the sermon commenced. Complete silence reigned as the clergyman ascended the pulpit; the brothers, looking up, saw a broad-shouldered man of florid complexion and square-cut jaw, whose profile reminded Mat for an instant of a fighting-man, whom he had once known in the Forest, but the resemblance quickly changed when he saw his full face, with its solemn, earnest expression, and heard his voice.
The preacher gave out a text which at once enwrapt the attention of our twins, so applicable did it and the eloquent sermon which followed, appear to their own case in having escaped so many dangers. As they walked homewards their thoughts were with the parson Tabor, and what he had said to them. Yet Tim made one remark,—
“Mat, if ever I want help or advice I’ll go to that man.”
In the middle of the succeeding week, and after Mat had rehearsed, to Marvin’s satisfaction, the latter came in with the morning papers.
“Look here,” he cried, “you are in for it now; here’s the announcement of the lecture, there, read it—‘Under the patronage, &c.’”