For a long time the patriot talked to the boys with simple, unsuspicious directness. And Nat noticed that he, like Revere and Mr. Adams, seemed to have perfect trust in Ezra Prentiss.
That night the boys spent at the “Green Dragon,” an inn much frequented by the patriotic townspeople. Next day Ezra made ready to ride to his home, which had been in Cambridge for the past year or two.
“Of course,” he said to Nat, “what time you stay about Boston, you will spend as my guest. So get ready and go out with me now.”
But Nat shook his head. It was an awkward situation, and the young mountaineer felt it deeply. Suspecting Ezra as he did, he could not accept his hospitality.
“You will be a great deal more comfortable at Cambridge than in the city as it now is,” urged Ezra.
“I have no doubt of that,” returned Nat. “But there are reasons why I should not go. However, I thank you for your kindness.”
The two boys were standing apart upon the pavement of the Green Dragon; and as Nat made this answer, Ezra regarded him steadily with his frank, honest eyes.
“For the first time in my life I know what it is to be held at arm’s length,” said he. “And not only now, but since I first met you.”
Nat did not reply; and the other resumed:
“I don’t know when I’ve met any one whom I’ve more earnestly desired to make my friend than you. Sometimes I’ve thought it would come about; but more often I’ve thought it otherwise.” Nat saw his mouth twitch as he turned away, adding: “There may be a reason for it all; if there is,” meaningly, “don’t forget that it was no fault of mine.”