"It is not altogether my grandfather's being an enemy to the colonies that troubles me," said Ezra. "He is a very old man and can do no great harm. But he has made himself hated by the people. And if they are, by any chance, starving in Boston, there will one day come an outbreak; and it is not against the soldiery that vengeance will be directed. It will be against such bitter-spoken partisans as Seth Prentiss."

Nat nodded.

"That is usually the way," he said. "Such a thing is greatly to be feared; but in this case it will hardly go so far. I have heard that there is a plan afoot to permit those who so desire to leave Boston. If this is carried out, it will help matters wonderfully."

But, though Ezra drew some small measure of hope from this suggestion, he was still vaguely troubled. Somehow, the thought of his grandfather kept recurring to him. He seemed filled with an indefinite fear concerning him; it was as though the future held something unpleasant in store. As this state of mind continued, he finally arose and bid his friends good-night with a feeling of great depression. He had entered his room and lighted a candle when he heard a low knock upon the door.

Opening it he saw his brother.

George entered and closed the door behind him.

"I have been wanting to say something to you all evening," said he, "but could not get the opportunity."

He drummed with his fingers upon the back of a chair, and the other saw a troubled look in his eyes.

"What is it?" asked Ezra.

"It's about this man Pennington," replied George. "And also about the one you call Abdallah."

Ezra regarded him steadily.

"What do you know of them?" he asked.

George, from the time of their father's death, had made his home with their Tory grandfather. In a measure he had shared the old man's views.

But at the Lexington fight, all this changed, and now he was the stoutest patriot of them all. Ezra had scarcely seen his grandfather in years; for the boy's open advocacy of the cause of liberty had deeply incensed the old man against him.

"I don't know a great deal about them," answered George. "I wish I did.

It might save us something. Pennington is a King's man, of course. He and grandfather have been intimate-I might say, very intimate. I noticed even long ago that they whispered a great deal in corners and held many consultations in the library with the doors carefully closed."

Ezra pursed up his mouth and frowned.

"I see," was all he said.

"Pennington came and went a great deal. Sometimes I would not see him for weeks. Then, again, he'd be at the house almost constantly. Now and then he'd bring a stranger. That is how I came to see Abdallah."

"Ah."

"They came late one night, in the midst of a storm. There was a great banging of doors and lifting of voices. I had gone to bed some time before; but the noise was so unusual that I got up again, dressed and came down. The library door stood open, and I saw grandfather, Mr.

Pennington, Abdallah and General Gage."

"Did you by any chance hear what was said?"

"Not much. But I learned that grandfather had been expecting Abdallah for months. The man had just arrived that night in a brig from San Domingo. I also drew from what I heard that grandfather desired him to perform some work of great value. But just what its nature was, I did not know until to-night."

"So grandfather is intimately concerned in the affair," said Ezra. "Do you know, somehow I felt that some such condition existed. Ben Cooper says he can often feel things coming; and in this case, at any rate, it's been so with me."

He paused a moment, then he resumed:

"Grandfather always hated spying and spies. And the fact that he has personally imported this man, shows how great is his hatred of the cause."

"It has no end," and George Prentiss shook his head.

"I can't help the impression that he will come to danger through it all," said Ezra. "It is a time when men do not stay their hands; and should he risk himself, his life will pay for it."

Again George shook his head.

"And he is of the sort that risk themselves," he said.

"But, tell me," said Ezra. "What sort of a person is Pennington?"

"Not more than thirty-five; but he would strike you as being much older.

He is about the average height; and his most noticeable characteristics are a very high and very narrow forehead, and a most disagreeable laugh."

After George had left him, Ezra undressed and went to bed. But not to sleep! Before his mind came pictures of conspiracies in which his bitter old grandfather played a conspicuous part. In his unreasoning hatred of the colonies' desire for liberty, the lad knew the old man would go to any length.

"He hasn't spoken to, or looked at me for years," thought Ezra. "But I'd have no harm befall him for all that."

Even after he had gone to sleep the idea clung to him in his dreams. Men with wonderfully high and astonishingly narrow foreheads laughed at him in a disagreeable way; suave, dark-skinned persons in flowing robes sought for the destruction of the colonies in the musty rolls of ancient ma.n.u.script. And the dreams were also filled with formidable General Gages, who, sword in hand, urged the others to hasten their tasks.

Next morning Ezra was up before his friends and after breakfasting, mounted and rode away toward the lines.

There were not a great many people to be met with. The outbreak of war had caused great terror, and very many of the inhabitants had left Cambridge, fearful of what was to come. Property was for the most part left unprotected; and as there were many vagabonds hanging upon the skirts of the colonial army, there was more or less looting.

That a general panic did not seize upon the people was due to the great influence and untiring efforts of Dr. Warren. No public character of the time had impressed itself so upon the ma.s.ses. Even the only partly disciplined troops felt the magnetism of the man, and many times, when they were on the verge of rising against their officers, had a word from him made them see the folly of such an action.

It was with the intention of advising with the doctor that Ezra made such an early start. But early as he was, the patriot had preceded him.

"The doctor has gone to Charlestown," the serving maid replied to the boy's inquiries. "Something was amiss there among the soldiers, and he was sent for."

"I will follow him there," said Ezra.

"Will nothing do them but that they must be forever disturbing him?"

demanded the girl, in an aggrieved sort of way. "He cannot get a sound night's rest for you all. First it's one and then it's the other who comes rushing for him. Are you all children, that you can do nothing for yourselves?"

Leaving the doctor's door, Ezra mounted once more and rode toward Charlestown. Here, after much inquiry, he found the doctor advising with a company of riflemen of Colonel Prescott's command.

There were some British gunboats and a heavily-armed transport anch.o.r.ed in the Charles River, and toward Boston several frowning frigates swung at their cables, black and ominous. Ezra spent some time in watching these, and the distant city where the army of Gage was quartered; and when Dr. Warren was disengaged, he at once approached him with the matter that was nearest his heart.

"I understand you perfectly," said the patriot, after Ezra had related his story. "But I do not see any great occasion for alarm on your part.

This spy system, which you so fortunately discovered, will not long survive the exposure. It is the nature of such things to die of too much light."

He paused a moment and then said:

"As to your grandfather's connection with it, now. It is not, in all probability, very great. He has proved himself useful in some way, perhaps, and they have made use of him. I know him fairly well. Seth Prentiss is too quick-tempered and far too outspoken a man to be knowingly selected as an important part in such a plot. And regarding any outbreak in Boston, you may put your mind at rest. Word has been sent to the townspeople to remain quiet, and they will obey."

Dr. Warren talked in the same soothing strain for some time; he saw that the lad was vaguely troubled, and desired to rea.s.sure him.

While they were so engaged, Colonel Prescott rode up. His strikingly handsome person was set off by his neat uniform, and he sat his horse like an Arab.

"Ah, Prentiss," cried he, after saluting the doctor cordially, "you are just the sort of lad I've had in mind. There's a dispatch to be carried to Colonel Stark at Medford, and I can scarcely spare an officer."