Nathan was a student at the College of Philadelphia, and the open book in his hand was a Latin Horace. But he found it difficult to fix his mind on the lesson, and his thoughts were constantly straying far from the printed pages. Doubtless the wits of Cornelius De Vries were wool-gathering in the same direction, for he had put aside the hated evening paper, "The Royal Gazette," and was dreamily watching the blue curls of smoke as they puffed upward from his pipe. Now he would frown severely, and now his eyes would twinkle and his cheeks distend in a grim sort of smile.
There was much for the loyal people of the town to talk and think about at that time. For nearly six months the British army, under General Howe, had occupied Philadelphia in ease and comfort, while at Valley Forge Washington's ragged soldiers were starving and freezing in the wintry weather, their heroic commander bearing in dignified silence the censure and complaint that were freely vented by his countrymen. Black and desperate, indeed, seemed the cause of the United American Colonies in that winter of 1777-78, and as yet no light of cheer was breaking on the horizon.
After grappling for the twentieth time with his lesson, Nathan suddenly closed the book and tossed it on the table.
"I can't translate Latin to-night, Master De Vries," he exclaimed. "It's no use trying. I wish I was down-town. Perhaps a walk in the fresh air will compose my mind."
The merchant answered only by a negative shake of the head, as he filled and ignited his pipe for the third time.
"Yes, you are right," Nathan said, resignedly. "I suppose I should keep indoors as much as possible to avoid suspicion, and I may be needed again shortly—"
Rat, tat, tat! Low and clear rang a knocking on the panels of the front door.
"There!" exclaimed Nathan, jumping up and running into the hall. The opening of the door revealed a short man standing on the lower step; it was too dark to see his face plainly. Without a word he handed the lad a slip of paper, and then strode swiftly off down the street.
Nathan closed and locked the door, and hurried to the light of the candles. He unfolded the paper and read aloud the following brief message, written in a small and legible hand:
"Come to the Indian Queen at once. Thee will find friends waiting thy trusty services."