It was a serious, solemn business, and these men were not given to levity
in any event. When they were seated, there was a moment of silence so
tense it could be heard. Every chance movement of a foot on the uncarpeted
floor sent an echo through the room.

The stillness was first broken by Mr. Lynch, of South Carolina, who arose
and in a low, clear voice said: "There is a gentleman present who has
presided with great dignity over a very respectable body and greatly to
the advantage of America. Gentlemen, I move that the Honorable Peyton
Randolph, one of the delegates from Virginia, be appointed to preside over
this meeting. I doubt not it will be unanimous."

It was so; and a large man in powdered wig and scarlet coat arose, and,
carrying his gold-headed cane before him like a mace, walked to the
platform without apology.

The New Englanders in homespun looked at one another with trepidation on
their features. The red coat was not assuring, but they kept their peace
and breathed hard, praying that the enemy had not captured the convention
through strategy. Mr. Randolph's first suggestion was not revolutionary;
it was that a secretary be appointed.

Again Mr. Lynch arose and named Charles Thomson, "a gentleman of family,
fortune and character." This testimonial of family and fortune was not
assuring to the plain Massachusetts men, but they said nothing and awaited
developments.

All were cautious as woodsmen, and the motion that the Council be held
behind closed doors was adopted. Every member then held up his right hand
and made a solemn promise to divulge no part of the transactions; and