Accordingly the nags were brought forward and saddled. Then all six, with the dwarf riding with Nat, mounted and rode off at a smart canter, heading for Cambridge and General Ward.
[CHAPTER XIII—SHOWS HOW EZRA RODE WITH PRESCOTT TOWARD BUNKER HILL]
As the six dashed along the morning roads toward Roxbury, Ezra noted much improvement in the American position; and those works that were in view had grown stronger and much more formidable than heretofore.
“It is right cleverly laid out,” commented Gilbert Scarlett, whose keen, dark eyes missed nothing. “I am more struck with admiration of your farmer and mechanic soldiery the more I see of them.”
“I can see,” said Nat Brewster, who rode with him, “that you have been harkening to the stories that the British have to tell about us. They call us impudent peasants who, in ignorance of what we are about, dare to face the army of the King. But that is mere bluster and affectation. Those officers among the British who have any experience in the warfare of the colonies, know that we have leaders who are perhaps their superiors.”
Scarlett smiled.
“Almost,” said he, “do you surpass our young friend Prentiss in attachment to the cause.”
“It is the cause of my country,” said Nat, simply.
A look of something like sadness came into the adventurer’s face.
“It must be a fine thing, indeed, to feel like that,” said he moodily. “As I have mentioned, I have served many causes—but never that of my own country, because I have no country.”