“I’m going to tell you something,” said Nat, with a grave air. “Something that will try your credulity, perhaps, but that is nevertheless true for all that. I ask your attention and I promise to venture no opinion. I am going to tell you nothing except what has happened and will leave it for you to pass judgment.”
“Go on,” said Dr. Warren.
Thereupon Nat began his tale and related it much after the fashion in which he had told it to his uncle. But of course there were the additional things—the happenings since they had left Philadelphia and, most damaging of all, the scene in the coffee-house only a few hours before.
Both Warren and Revere listened with the utmost attention; not once did they interrupt the boy as briefly and lucidly he sketched the happenings that had given him so much anxiety.
“And now,” he concluded, “I felt that I could not withhold this any longer—that it was my duty to place the facts before you. And, as I said at the beginning, I venture no opinion. I leave it to you to say what it all means.”
“What you have told us is most astounding,” said Warren, “and yet there is that in it which carries conviction. What is your opinion, Revere?”
The engraver shook his head.
“I don’t know what to say,” he replied. “Ezra has always, as far as I could see, been worthy of trust. But in the face of all that I have just now heard——” and he gestured helplessly, as though unable to finish the sentence.
Then the two plunged deeply into the matter and discussed its every side. Every now and then they appealed to Nat for the verification of some fact; and the boy was greatly relieved to find that not once did they doubt any feature of his story. At length Dr. Warren said:
“To spread this tale abroad would do little good. In fact, it might do considerable harm; for the people, you know, are easily struck with panic. The knowledge that there are traitors within the lines would have a bad effect upon many.”