“It is indeed very beautiful,” he replied. “The snow, the silver, gold, light and shade, the steeple tapering to a point, make it a wonderful picture. Would that you could see on such a night as this the view from my own home,—upland and valley, meadow and forest, walls and fences, leafless oaks, elms, and maples in fields and pastures, pure white and shining like polished silver in the moonlight, and all the twigs and branches glittering with diamonds. On such nights, when the crust is hard and firm, we boys and girls pile ourselves on a sled and go like the wind from the top of the hill in the pasture down to the meadow, across the intervale, over the river bank, and out upon the gleaming ice. We wake the echoes with our laughter and have a jolly time.”
“Oh, how I should enjoy it,” she said.
Suddenly they heard other voices, and as they turned the corner of the street came upon a group of men and boys armed with cudgels.
“We’ll give it to the lobsters,” they heard one say.
“I fear there may be trouble,” Robert remarked, recalling the conversation at the supper-table.
Passing the home of Doctor Warren, they saw a light burning in his office, and by the shadow on the window curtain knew he was seated at his writing-desk. Turning from Hanover towards Queen Street, they found several soldiers in earnest conversation blocking the way.
“I’d like to split the heads of the blackguards,” said one, flourishing a cutlass.
“Will you please allow me to pass?” said Robert.
“When you take off your hat to us,” the answer.
“This is the king’s highway,” said Robert.