He was, however, soon to undergo a great surprise.
Huddled up in his long gray cloak, he was facing a small snow-storm that whirled the drifts around the corners of the houses, and as he emerged into Waddell Lane a tall man who was approaching glanced at him most curiously. Just as William was passing, the other extended his arm and grasped him by the shoulder.
"Hold! I would not go in that direction," said the man. "Don't be rash. Be cautious, Frothingham, I do beseech you. Step to one side in the alley here; no one will see us, and I would have a word with you."
William, to his best knowledge and belief, had never seen the person who addressed him so readily and excitedly by name before.
Something told him at once that here was one of the persons concerned in his brother George's intended escape. It behooved him well to listen.
"You have chosen a good night," said Mr. Abel Norton, drawing the young Lieutenant into the shadow of the doorway of an empty house, "a splendid night. It has worked well; but, Heavens! a full uniform! How did you procure it, in the name of mercy?"
"It was easier than you think, I suspect," said William, now speaking for the first time.
"I wish I could say it becoming," went on the older man. "It must itch you like a hair shirt—eh?"
William said nothing.
"I met your colored servant two days ago. I remembered having seen him with your uncle years gone by. He has returned to New Jersey with tidings of you, and the news that you have been slightly wounded and that you will follow him. By this time they at Stanham have learned of your intention to escape. I have been ill," continued Abel Norton. "This is the first day that I have been out. I was on my way to the prison to see if in some way I could learn tidings of you."