“That was an idea of Chesbrook’s; sort of a finishing off, you might call it.”
Here the band and chain clashed to the stone floor; with muskets at their shoulders, the guard fell in line, Nat in their midst.
“As a last word, lad,” said the grizzled sergeant, not unkindly, “let me say you’d better do anything that shipman tells you. It’ll save you a lot, perhaps.”
“Thank you,” said Nat.
At a sharp word from the sergeant the guard marched out of the room and into the open air. There were very few lights; but the bustle told Nat, at once, that there was something under way; and then as he saw line after line of fully equipped soldiers pass by, he understood.
“It’s the column being sent to Concord!” he breathed. There was a queer tightening at his heart and throat as he watched the trained redcoats trudge stolidly toward the river. Their compact organization was plain; like a machine they moved at the command of watchful officers. Behind them were centuries of discipline and British prestige, proven upon countless battle-fields. And, at the very best, there would be to oppose them a but few bands of roughly organized farmers and workmen, called hastily from their occupations to take up arms.
“What chance have they?” thought Nat, gloomily, still burdened with his captivity. “Even if they have been armed, what chance have they?”
But he had no great time to think over this or anything else; being led to the line of boats he was forced into one of them; and in a few moments was in midstream. The lights of the “Somerset” man-of-war, which lay near at hand, burned clearly, and the tide was at young flood. Overhead the moon was like a silver disc; and the sprinkling stars wavered and sparkled like myriads of eyes, gazing down at the darkness of the world.
The troops were ferried across the river with a despatch that spoke well for Gage’s preparations. Immediately they were formed in column and the eighteen-mile march to Concord began.
Nat now found himself well in the rear under a close guard; near him rode Major Pitcairn, the commander of the column, Lieutenant-Colonel Smith and Chesbrook, all of whom seemed engaged in earnest conversation. No one spoke to Nat, save now and then the grizzled infantry sergeant; but at length a horseman dropped back from the front, dismounted, gave his steed in care of a soldier and approached him.