“Then the law is enforced strictly?” said Nat Brewster.
The doctor laughed bitterly.
“Strictly enough,” said he. “The harbor is covered with British ships of war. And not only is the city’s foreign commerce cut off, but its domestic as well. Let a scow bring lumber or iron, or a lighter attempt to land hay from the islands and they are stopped. If a farmer attempts to ferry over his marketings or float his sheep into the city, the fleet is ever ready to capture or destroy them.”
“It is, indeed, a condition of affairs not to be tolerated,” remarked Ezra, warmly. “But how has Gage treated the people lately?”
“Oh, fairly enough. But he dare not do otherwise. The new laws are observed only in Boston; the whole outlying colony is in revolt against them, and I think he’s in fear that there may be an outbreak before he’s ready for it.”
“What do you suppose will be the end of it, sir?”
“We must fight!” answered the doctor, gravely; “and to win, we must make preparations.”
“Good!” cried Ezra, and the light in his eyes was that of one who feels deeply. “And as for the preparation, I suppose that is still going forward.”
Dr. Warren nodded.
“We have magazines of stores at Concord and Worcester which are constantly being added to. Cannon, powder and musket-balls are being gathered from every possible source. The organizations of militia are being drilled daily; the minutemen, as we have called them, stand ready to answer the call of the Committee of Safety, day or night.”