[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Is she alone, sir?"

"Yes, so far as the interior of the dwelling is concerned; but her home is surrounded by a troop of people who think, mayhap, they show sympathy by evincing curiosity. The little dwelling was absolutely choked by those who followed Chris; but when the surgeon arrived he very rightly and promptly ordered the house to be cleared. I promised to send some person who was sufficiently clear-headed to be of service to the sorrowing widow."

"How is Chris, sir?"

"His life, probably, cannot be saved. The surgeon declares that he has but a few hours, at the most, to live; that the wound is necessarily mortal."

"Master Revere," and Amos spoke in a most sorrowful tone, "think you that those who placed the head in front of Master Lillie's shop can be blamed for the death of poor Chris?"

The goldsmith looked at Amos, searchingly, a few seconds, and then turned his eyes away.

"I think I understand why you ask that question, Amos Richardson, and sorry I am there should be the necessity for such thoughts in your mind. But he who would say those who thus attracted attention to Master Lillie's shortcomings could be held in any way as contributing to the poor boy's death, would, perforce, twist his arguments sadly.

That which was done last night was not begun with any idea the ending could, by any possibility, be what it is. Therefore, while it is a most deplorable affair, one which, perhaps, may mean more than the killing of a human being, you must not let your heart be troubled. G.o.d works in wondrous ways, and who shall say that He has not shaped this for some wise purpose? Go, now, to the house of mourning, my boy, and aid that bereaved mother as best you can. Before nightfall I will send some one to relieve you of your sad duty."

Thus it was that Amos had spent the day at Frog Lane, and not until Master Revere had fulfilled his promise relative to sending another did he leave the dying lad, who was already being spoken of in the city as "the first martyr to the n.o.ble cause" and the "first victim to the cruelty and rage of oppressors."

Little Chris had not been conscious from the moment he was brought into the house, nor could any word, save that he was sinking slowly, be given to those who called at short intervals to inquire regarding his condition.

When Amos arrived at the Liberty Tree once more, several hundred people were there, eager to learn the latest intelligence regarding Chris; but he could only make the same reply he had made so often during the day, and when it was learned that he really had no other information than this to impart, the sympathetic or the curious ones fell back, gathering in little groups to discuss the terrible events of the day, as they had been discussing them since early morning.

When he was thus left comparatively alone, Amos observed, for the first time, that Jim Gray was present at this open-air meeting; that Jim's eyes were red, as with much weeping, and that he paced to and fro, speaking to no one, even refusing to reply when accosted.

Amos understood what was in his friend's mind, and he hastened to apply the same balm with which Master Revere had cheered him.

"That's the way I have tried to figure it," Jim replied, after listening patiently to a repet.i.tion of the goldsmith's remarks on the subject. "Yet, at the same time, Amos, it is a fact that poor little Chris would not be dying this evening if we hadn't taken it into our heads to give Master Lillie a warning; and whether or no it be that there is more in this than we can see now, as Master Revere proposes, we shall be forced to remember that through us, and no one else, was Chris drawn into the matter."

"But think of this, Jim: he did not receive the wound while we were putting the pole into position, but afterwards, when he was only a spectator, and he might have been there, even though knowing nothing of what was done last night."

"Yet if the pole hadn't been put up he would not have been there, even as a spectator," Jim persisted.

"That is true, and I wish from the bottom of my heart that we had had no hand in it; but it has been done now, and repentance is of no avail, so far as poor little Chris is concerned. The whole city is aroused, and I have heard those say, who should know, that most likely this will lead to the soldiers being driven out of town."

"Think you that could be done without bloodshed? General Gage, as an officer in the King's army, has no right to leave this city unless obliged to by force of arms."

"Whatever may come of it, I know not; but--"

"Well, I can tell you," and Hardy Baker, who had approached un.o.bserved, stepped in front of his two friends with the air of one whose shoulders are weighted heavily with burden of state. "Of course I am in a way to hear a good deal more than you fellows because so many of Master Piemont's patrons are Britishers. The 'b.l.o.o.d.y backs'

themselves say this is really the beginning of insubordination in the Colonies, and before many months have pa.s.sed the King will find it necessary to punish us severely. It may be learned that we won't submit as readily as they seem to fancy."

"But how could it be avoided?" Amos asked, impatiently; for the tone in which the barber's apprentice spoke, and the swagger he had a.s.sumed, grated harshly upon the boy's nerves.

"We'll arouse the people to action," Hardy replied, loftily.

"Yes, and in the meanwhile the King will have sent over more soldiers to whip us into submission. If such men as Master Adams are unable to remedy this state of affairs, I don't believe the yoke of oppression, which bears so heavily upon the Colonies, will be removed by any effort at Master Piemont's hair-dressing shop."

"It is all very well for you to sneer when you don't understand the situation; but your harsh words won't alter the facts, and I tell you, Amos Richardson, you will see yet more blood spilled."

"And you propose to take a hand in the spilling, I suppose?"

"I shall be wherever anything of the kind is going on, of that you may rest a.s.sured. Do you know where your uncle is at this moment?"

"No."

"The people made prisoners of Wilmot and him, and carried them both to Faneuil Hall, where they have been examined and committed for trial.

He will be hanged for murder."

"As he should be, even though he is my uncle! But when that has been done, what then?"

"You shall see," the barber's apprentice replied, in a prophetic tone.

"I am not through with this matter yet."

Then Master Baker walked slowly away, as if the fate of the Colony of Ma.s.sachusetts was in his keeping.

The interview with Master Piemont's a.s.sistant did not serve to cheer either Amos or Jim, but rather further distressed them in mind, and, after trying in vain each to give some comfort to the other, the two went to Chris Gore's home, where they learned that he was resting comfortably, in no danger of death.

On the following morning the tolling of the bell on New Brick Church told that little Chris Snyder was dead, and the city was in more of a ferment, if possible, than before.

Liberty Hall was crowded with people who had gathered to discuss the situation of affairs, which now seemed dangerous in the extreme, and threats against the "b.l.o.o.d.y backs" were openly indulged in.

Amos and Jim were together the greater portion of the time which intervened between Chris's death and his funeral; but saw nothing of the barber's apprentice.

They had been selected, together with four others of the dead boy's friends, to act as pall-bearers, and on Monday forenoon performed their part in the impressive ceremonies, which were held under the Liberty Tree, when beneath it was placed for a brief time the coffin bearing on its head the inscription, "_Innocentia nusquam tuta_;" on the foot, "_Latat anguis in herba_;" and on either side, "_Haeret lateri lethalis arundo_."

Four hundred schoolboys marched in couples behind the casket containing all that was mortal of Chris Snyder; thirteen hundred citizens followed, and the procession was closed by thirty chariots and chaises.

The bells of Boston and the neighbouring towns were tolled as the procession marched from Frog Lane to the Liberty Tree, and from thence to the burying-ground, and on every hand the little fellow was spoken of as the "first martyr in the cause of American liberty."

During the week which followed the funeral ceremonies, Amos and Jim were much together in the home of Chris Gore, whose wound was rapidly healing. They had little or no intercourse with the barber's apprentice, whom, it was rumoured, had made friends among a certain set of men frequenting the resorts on the water-front of the city.

Neither had succeeded in convincing himself he was wholly blameless for the tragedy on Hanover Street, and both shunned Hardy Baker as much as possible because of the ridiculous threats he made as to what he intended to do, and cause others to do, against the soldiers.

It was on the Friday succeeding the funeral, when Amos and Jim were together in the yard of the latter's home, where the symbol of warning to Master Lillie had been prepared, that the barber's apprentice burst in upon them like a whirlwind.

Excitement was written on every feature of his face, and several seconds elapsed before he could speak coherently. Then he exclaimed:

"It has come at last! It has come at last!"

"What has come?" Amos asked, impatiently.

"The 'b.l.o.o.d.y backs' are to be driven out of town. They have done so much this time that the people will soon put an end to them! It seems that Chris Snyder's murder wasn't enough--"

"But the soldiers had nothing to do with that," Jim said, quickly. "We three are the guilty ones."

"Now you are talking foolishly," Hardy cried, angrily. "If I didn't know you two fellows as well as I do, I'd say you were ready to make friends with the oppressors."

"We have no desire to be friendly with the soldiers," Amos replied, thoughtfully, "nor can I understand why we should announce ourselves as their enemies. They have done nothing to us personally; but are simply stationed here in obedience to the King's commands."