“It’s the ferry landing,” he told himself.
Almost at the same moment he heard the Porcupine whisper in his ear:
“They are waiting here for the gentlemen from Virginia to cross the river.”
“Hush!” breathed Nat, fearing that the words would be overheard. Then aloud he said, addressing the invisible people before him:
“I suppose you have taken up your present position through motives of kindness entirely. The fear that some heedless wayfarer might ride into the river has kept you all out of your beds, no doubt.”
Again came the laugh from the party blocking the road.
“Our traveler has wit!” mocked the unseen boy. “I’ll even venture that he’s as clever a debater as either of the Adamses, or Patrick Henry himself.” He paused a moment and then addressed Nat once more: “Perhaps it’s your intention to cross the river?” said he.
“Perhaps,” replied Nat.
“I’m very sorry, in that event,” returned the other in his cool, exasperating way. “But the ferry has just this moment——”
He had gotten this far when there came a sudden movement; it was as though a hand had been quickly clapped over his mouth. Then Dimisdale was heard to say, quietly: