“Quite a boatload, I see,” and the man flashed his lantern aloft.
“Yes, some gentlemen who wish to enter the town.”
“It’s the only place for honest men,” grumbled the sailor. “But I must say there is a great shortage of fresh provision there. My men will all be down with the scurvy if they don’t get a change soon.”
The seaman was still speaking when the skiff pulled out of hearing. Three times they were halted before they reached a point on the Boston side just above Gree’s shipyard. A heavy battery was planted here that commanded Charlestown, and they were brought under this in charge of a yawl filled with men and in command of a young officer of marines, who showed dapper and spick and span under the lantern light.
When they were landed, a file of men took them in charge until Pennington, after some whispered conversation, was passed by the officer in charge.
“A right soldierly way of looking at the matter,” observed Scarlett, who had been keenly watching all that occurred.
“General Gage is a most excellent soldier,” spoke Pennington. “None of the rebel troops shall get in while he is in command, nor,” and there was a sneer in his tone, “none of his own troops shall get out.”
As they passed through Prince’s Street they heard the steady tramp of troops on their way to the southerly part of the city. When beyond the Mill Pond, a roar of hoofs met them as squadron after squadron of cavalry dashed by headed in the same direction. At Middle Street they encountered a battery of field-guns also hastening southward.
“Something is toward, to-night,” said Scarlett with great interest.
“It may be that they are on their way to the Neck,” was Ezra’s thought. And a shiver ran through him as he fancied the colonists not being ready to meet the attack.