"Nevertheless, I saw him and talked with him not two hours agone," answered Abel.
"The boat—" began the schoolmaster, excitedly.
"They will meet him at Striker's wharf at eleven o'clock. The last patrol goes down at half past ten."
"You have done good work; but one more question, and then, we will resume the rules. How was he dressed?"
"In the uniform of a British officer," answered Abel.
"Whew!" whistled Mr. Anderson. "There may be some mistake."
"No chance of it," said Abel. "I talked with him."
Mr. Anderson had arisen and taken off his spectacles. He reached down from a hook a fine fur-lined coat, and was stretching it across his shoulders. "You had best home and to bed, good friend," he said. "We'll say no more upon the subject. It's a fine night."
"Aye, for in-doors," coughed Abel Norton; and both conspirators passed out into the cold air. They parted on the door-step. It had stopped snowing.
A wise plan for plotters to follow is that of never referring, even amongst themselves, by word of mouth to the matter they wish kept secret. If each receives his instructions from one source, and acts accordingly, there is a better chance for success and less danger of detection.