Our men had pass’d the door, at last,
Nor yet had roused a sound.
The Quaker sat there reading[12]
“What would you have?” he said;
Then, when they ask’d for Prescott, cast
His eyes up o’er his head.
As whist as cats the captors
Crept up each tell-tale stair,[13]
And cross’d the floor to where a door
Was lock’d, nor time to spare.