“I will admit,” said Royce, “that there is something in what you say. Of course he doesn’t know just when the members from Virginia are to cross the ferry, and he can only notify us when he receives the information. But I can’t get it out of my head that he could have used more expedition in the Adams matter.”
“You are a natural born grumbler,” said the lean man. “I don’t think it would be possible to please you, no matter what was done. Young Prentiss did his best to get here in advance of the men from Massachusetts; and he did arrive in advance, as you know.”
“But not far enough to be of any service, Mr. Dimisdale, as you know,” insisted Royce, stubbornly.
The two men had paused and leaned their elbows upon the wall at no greater distance than two yards from the spot where Nat was crouched.
“I know the general estimate placed upon the importance of these two Adams’,” said Dimisdale.
“They are dangerous to the best interests of the crown,” declared Royce. “They are of the type of men who lead the people astray by false doctrines. The country will never be at peace while they are at large. Did not the eldest of them—the one named Samuel—have the effrontery to shake his fist in the face of an English governor and warn him that British redcoats—our safeguards—must be removed from Boston. And all because a few rebellious rascals had been shot in the streets for an open defiance of the law!”
The indignation of the burly Tory as he conjured up this scene almost made Nat laugh outright, but he stifled the impulse as Dimisdale began to speak.
“Please allow me to finish,” said that gentleman. “When you interrupted me I was about to show you that these two brothers are not the only persons of consequence in this movement.”
“Go on,” said Royce, sullenly.
“The prospects of our intercepting the men from Virginia are good,” said Dimisdale. “If we succeed, we will, beyond a doubt, have made as important a capture, if not one of more importance, than the one you so regret missing.”