“It would be as well,” spoke Revere, after some discussion, “for me to make a personal examination of things and be sure that the expedition is really about to start.”
This was agreed to, and off the engraver started, the dwarf still with him and riding Warren’s horse. They had reached the Common when they noted considerable movement; rows of boats were drawn up at the water’s edge at the bottom of the Common, each bearing a light in its bow. Approaching these were a body of troops armed and equipped as for a march.
“That means two flashes of the lantern in the North Tower,” said Paul Revere, with a suppressed laugh. Then as though a thought had just come to him, he added, in a changed tone, “But suppose by some accident they do not see the signal?”
The idea apparently troubled him; for a moment he stood still; then he turned suddenly to the Porcupine.
“You know the sexton of North Church, do you not?”
“Yes,” came the reply.
“Ride there at once,” directed Revere, with the manner of one who has made up his mind, “ask him to give you the lantern which he has ready, and do you give the signal.”
Without a word the Porcupine turned the horse and galloped off over the soft sod toward the north. Revere hastened toward the river; at the end of a deserted wharf he uttered a whistle and two men came forward from some unseen hiding-place. Without any explanation being necessary, they drew a dory from behind some piles; all three got into it and pulled sturdily across the river.
Upon the farther side they found Colonel Conant and a group of others upon the bank, and the militia officer greeted Revere hurriedly.
“We just now received the signal,” said he, “and had secured a horse from Deacon Larkin upon which to send a courier with the news.”