Around a long table, well furnished with wine and glasses, sat a
select company of gentlemen, whose dress and deportment denoted them
to be persons of the first consequence. And such, indeed, may be said
to have been the fact, till the present time, for the party embraced
the judges and officers of the court, and such of the most stanch and
influential of their supporters as could be convened for a special
consultation, which, it was considered, the portents of the times
demanded. Here was the aristocratic and haughty Brush, the host, and
leading spirit of the party, with his florid face, cracking his jokes
and ridiculing "the boorish settlers," in which he was sure to find a
ready response in the boisterous laugh of Peters and other young
supporters of the court and loyal party. Here, too, sat the fiery and
profane Gale, the clerk of the court, with his thin, angular features,
and forbidding brow, occasionally exploding with his short, bitter,
barking laugh, as, with many an oath, he dealt out anticipated
vengeance on all those who should dare cross the path of the
established authorities. And here also was Chandler, the chief judge
of the court, with his plausible manners, affectedly sincere look, and
deferential smile, as he exchanged the whisper and meaning glance with
his colleague, Judge Sabin, a stern, reserved, and bigoted loyalist,
or as he nodded approbation to the remarks, whatever they might be, of
those around him. These with Stearns, a tory lawyer of some note,
Rogers, a tory land holder, Haviland, and a few others, all leading
and trusty supporters of the court party, constituted the company, or
rather the cabinet council, here convened, all of whom, as appeared by
the entire freedom of their remarks, were fully in each other's
confidence.

There was one person in the room, however, who had no thought or
feeling in common with the rest of those present, but who did not