“It seems, Mr. Royce, that our arrangements clash now and then.”
“Yes,” replied the man, loweringly, “and take care that it does not happen once too often.”
“I think the care should be upon your part, if you value yourself at all,” said Nat. “If I had spread the news abroad of your attempt of a week ago, the people of Philadelphia would have torn you apart.”
“If they had caught me,” sneered the man.
“At least they would have caught Mr. Dimisdale and a few others. And I have no doubt that you, also, could have been taken, had enough people been so minded. There is too much bitterness in the public mind to tolerate such plots as you are engaged in.”
“You seem to know a great deal,” said Royce.
“Much more, perhaps, than you even think,” returned Nat. “But I’ll not put you to the trouble of listening to it all: I’ll just say that any message intended for a good patriot is going to reach him. Make no mistake about that.”
Then, as the rage of Royce grew greater and a look of astonishment went around the others, Nat continued:
“Now I’ll bid you good-evening. But first I’ll ask you,” and he never took his eyes from them, “to look up the road. There, I have no doubt, you will see a lad with a rifle.”
The followers of Royce and Royce himself gazed up the road as directed; and from their expressions Nat gathered that Ben was waiting there with the long weapon ready.