“And no British column, no matter how strong, will be able to get that far in search of them,” added Mr. Adams, grimly.
Revere and Nat rode back by way of Charlestown, and here they met Colonel Conant of the militia, and some other gentlemen warm in the cause.
“It puzzles me,” said Revere, after some talk, “how we shall get word across the river when the troops are about to start.”
“I had thought of that,” answered Conant. “From where we stand, the tower of Old North Church is plain to be seen in day-time. When the troops start, climb to the windows in the steeple and signal us by flashes of light—one if they are going by land, two if by water.”
“Good,” praised Revere, “a fortunate idea, colonel. We will act upon it. Don’t forget,” as they were going, “two flashes of a lantern if they go by water—one, if by land.”
When they reported to Dr. Warren he breathed a sigh of relief.
“It now only remains for us to keep a strict patrol,” he said, “and give the signals promptly. Do you,” to Nat, “watch like a hawk. And you,” to Revere, “see to it that your men do the same.”
Monday passed, and Nat, still employed at the officers’ quarters, noted many things that gave him alarm. Late in the afternoon he saw a dozen horses brought out and a group of laughing, chatting officers all ready to mount.
“I think,” said the strapping ensign whom Nat had heard talk a few days before, and who now made one of this party, “that there will be little need for us to watch the roads. The Yankees know nothing, and therefore can send no warning to the peasants in the out-sections.”
Nat did not desire to hear more. In a sheltered spot he scribbled a few words upon the face of a smooth pine block with the point of a nail; hiding this beneath his coat, he made his way to a point beyond the barracks.