“Sixteen,” replied the dwarf.
“You must have had pretty good schooling.”
“Five years. A Quaker gentleman sent me to Master File’s Academy. But he died and I had no money to continue any longer, so back I went to sleeping in doorways, while I staid in the city, and in barns when I took to the country.”
A little later, Nat, looking at the tall clock which stood in a corner, said:
“I think I’d better make my way to North Square, and see Mr. Revere; and as he seems disinclined to talk before a third person, you had better wait for me at the ‘Dragon.’”
After leaving the Porcupine to make his way to the inn, Nat Brewster set into a brisk pace and in a short time found himself once more at the house of Paul Revere.
“Ah,” said that worthy, heartily gripping him by the hand, “I was just this moment thinking of you.”
Nat sat down upon an oaken bench; the engraver went on with his work, every now and then looking up to nod at his caller; but all the time he talked steadily.
“Last night,” he said, “I saw Dr. Warren and Dr. Benjamin Church, and I talked with them about you.”
“Who is Dr. Church?” asked Nat, who had never heard of that gentleman before.