But Nat had little time to think of these things. As the winter advanced the situation became more and more tense. The arming of the people went steadily on, as did the collecting of the military stores. Nat, in one capacity or another, served Dr. Warren and the Committee of Public Safety continuously; he kept as close as possible to the British sources of information and more than once was lucky enough to secure news that was of great help to the cause. But the Porcupine was invaluable; he developed a musical talent, which Nat had not suspected, and upon a strange looking string instrument of his own manufacture he played and sang Tory ballads at inns and places where the royalists resorted. In this way he made himself popular with them and so gained admittance to places which would otherwise have been denied him; the result was that there was scarcely a thing of consequence talked of among the Tories that escaped him, or failed to reach the ears of the committee in due course.
In this way it became known to Warren and the rest of the patriot committee that Gage had about despaired of his policy of inaction; he had made up his mind to disarm the people and seize their leaders.
“He has been desirous of having an army of twenty thousand men before resorting to this,” Nat told Dr. Warren in repeating what he had heard. “But he has made up his mind that these will never be sent him, so he is going to make the attempt with his present force.”
“Which is about thirty-five hundred,” said Dr. Warren. “But how is he to proceed, or haven’t you heard?”
“The Porcupine, as it happens, heard that very subject talked of last night at the ‘George and Griffin.’ Ruggles, the loyalist leader, has asked General Gage to send troops to Marshfield to protect the Tories from violence.”
“No violence is meditated against them,” said Warren, sternly. “That is but a subterfuge to test the willingness of the people to permit troops to march into the outlying sections.”
On January 23d, General Gage sent one hundred men and three hundred stand of arms to Marshfield. All Boston, it seemed, was on the streets to watch the tiny column move out of the city; and as Nat stood gazing with interest upon the scene, he was surprised to see Ezra Prentiss upon the edge of the crowd at the opposite side of the street. They exchanged formal salutes, but neither made any attempt to cross to the other. Nat knew that the brothers Adams had left Philadelphia at the adjournment of Congress, but he had heard nothing of Ezra; and, indeed, had given him but little thought.
“That means that we must both be more careful,” said the Porcupine, when Nat told him of the meeting. “If he sees you among the British and me among the Tories, he’ll be sure to whisper something in their ears that will put us in danger.”
In sending the troops to Marshfield, Gage feared an outbreak; but when the colonists merely looked sullenly on and no hand was raised against the soldiers, the governor grew elated.
“They dare not really oppose the king’s troops,” he is reported as saying. “And when the spring opens, I’ll prove it to even themselves.”