There was nothing Amos could do to aid this family, and having no desire to listen to Hardy's foolish threats, as he would probably be forced to do in case he waited for that young gentleman's return, he walked slowly toward Frog Lane, repeating again and again to himself that, if little Chris Snyder's death should follow as a result of his wound, those who had erected the symbol of warning would at least be morally responsible.
He had arrived at the Liberty Tree, where was a great throng of people waiting, as if believing that here in the so-called Liberty Hall they would the sooner receive tidings of the injured lad's condition, when he met Master Revere, returning to his place of business.
"I think, Amos," the goldsmith said, as he attracted the boy's attention by tapping him on the shoulder, "that it would be well if you were to go to the Widow Snyder's home. She may need assistance in caring for her son, and you are more to be relied upon than any lad of your age whom I know."
"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?"