The hours passed slowly and wearily to the two boys who had nothing more to do than spend the time in waiting; but finally the moment came when, in order to keep the appointment, they must leave their retreat in the grove, and it was with a sense of decided relief that they hurried forward, although knowing that they were hastening on a perilous venture.
On arriving at that side of the town-house where stood the pillory, not a person was to be seen.
Fortunately they had met with no one, not even the patrol, during their walk down from Sixth Street, and as they stood behind the instrument of torture whereon Grimshaw had passed so many painful hours it was safe to assume that no person unfriendly to their design was aware of their whereabouts.
Five, ten minutes passed, and yet no sign of life upon the deserted street.
"Something has happened; he cannot come," Enoch whispered nervously.
"I will answer for him," Jacob replied confidently. "He isn't the kind of a man who would back out after promising, and he knows we will wait for him even though he is two hours late."
"If any of the Britishers should see us, we would be put under arrest."
"But there is no danger of that, not while we stay here, and the night is so dark that the redcoats would be obliged to hunt around a good while before finding us. I don't think it is safe to talk, because—here comes some one! Now the question is whether it's the man we are waiting for."
In the gloom the boys could faintly see a dark form coming up the street, and with loudly beating hearts they waited until the figure was nearly opposite, when a low whistle broke the silence, and Enoch said with a long-drawn sigh of relief:
"It is him. No one else would make a signal here."