And thus it was throughout all New England, during that Sunday and the days following, that men, many of them in the house of God, silently, suddenly, prayerfully committed themselves to the cause of King or people. They saw themselves under two masters, and painful though the decision was, they felt that they must, for the future, hold to the one, even though it was difficult for them to find it in their hearts to despise the other. When all had gone who had resolved to go, when quiet had fallen again in the church, the minister, without a word of further comment, announced the National Anthem. The pent-up feelings of the people--and there was yet a large congregation, for fully three-fourths of the worshippers had remained--found freedom and relief in the old familiar words. Shortly after we reached home that day, through the green of the trees, waving high in front of the rectory, I caught a glimpse of the Union Jack. Chapter VIII Off to Nova Scotia It was several weeks later. My mother, Dr. Canfield, Duncan Hale, and I were sitting in a room in Boston, awaiting our turn for a promised interview with Lord Percy, who was still with the army. The battle of Bunker Hill had been won by the British; but, in spite of this success, General Washington, who arrived in July to take command of the army, had succeeded in drawing his lines uncomfortably close about the city. We, with thousands of others, had been forcibly driven from our beautiful homes in the country, to make quarters for Washington's soldiers. We had been allowed to take nothing away. From all that was most dear to us--from the luxury of a quiet life of culture; from rooms where hung portraits of hero ancestors; from walks and gardens that had become part of our life; from broad, rich fields and firm-set old mansions, with their wide halls and fine Corinthian architecture;--from all these, one day in late June, my sisters, my mother, and myself, had been driven by a mob-like body of rough, jeering men who called themselves patriot soldiers. True, we might have remained. Indeed, as we passed down the path from our home, my mother was presented with a second paper, the signing of which would have restored to us all that from which we were being driven. She read a few lines, then, tearing the paper into bits, she threw these in the face of the soldier who stood before her. After this, without a single look backward upon our home--on foot, under the blazing June sun--we had hurried away toward the besieged city of Boston. None hindered us; but many jeered as we passed. We had lost much--much upon which we never again looked--but we felt we had gained in this: we were under the flag of the King. But that was the past. What of the future? This was the question in the mind of each of us that day in Lord Percy's waiting-room, when a servant appeared, and asked us to follow him.