Ezra saluted promptly.

"Yes, colonel," spoke he.

It took some time to get the dispatch in proper order; and when Ezra finally left Prescott's quarters, it was high noon. After a sharp ride to Medford the papers were delivered to Colonel Stark. Then there was another wait while that fine warrior prepared his answer. Darkness had fallen when he arrived at Charlestown once more.

[Ill.u.s.tration: DR. WARREN TALKED IN THE SAME STRAIN]

The bay was rubbed down, rested and fed; its rider stretched himself upon a bench with a biscuit and a slice of beef. The sky had a sort of a bronze hue and the stars burned dimly, like bright rivets set in a giant's shield.

Ezra, when he had finished his supper, lay looking up at this and wondering at the vastness of it. The lights of camp-fires flared here and there; files of rough, un-uniformed soldiers pa.s.sed and repa.s.sed; bursts of laughter and s.n.a.t.c.hes of song came down from groups whose duty was done.

And across the river, under the same stars, lay the British army; it was perilously near, and it was powerful and deadly if properly guided.

Ezra sat up and looked toward the danger point. Boston was dark, save for a few winking fires; orders had been given long before for civilians to extinguish lights of all descriptions before a given hour. The side lights burned steadily upon the war-ships; occasionally a singsong cry came from their decks as the watches were changed or a seaman called the hour.

Somehow, it seemed to the boy that this was the sort of night that strange, wild things might well go forward. Odd enterprises might be tried and accomplished under that bronze sky and those dimly-burning stars. Strange people might well meet in all sorts of queer places and mysterious deeds might well happen.

In the midst of these reflections, Ezra came to his feet, a sudden resolve fixed in his mind. A little distance away a group of townspeople were gathered. He approached and said to one of them:

"Do you know of an inn anywhere about that is known as the 'Indian's Head'?"

The man stared a moment, then shook his head. But one of his companions spoke up.

"There is none in Charlestown; but outside," and he pointed to the north, "there is a small tavern called by that name. It lies upon a road between Breed's and Bunker's Hills."

"And which do you think would be the best way to reach it?" inquired Ezra.

"What, to-night?" the man glanced about among his companions. And all seemed to reflect his incredulity.

"And why not?"

"Haven't you heard that the British talk of crossing and setting themselves up upon those two hills?"

"Yes, and of firing upon Charlestown?" put in another.

"They are only wild reports," answered Ezra. "Such like get abroad in times like these, but there is no reliance to be placed in them."

If the facts be told, he had heard the same things himself, and from persons of some consequence; but it would not do to encourage the thoughts of the already frightened townspeople in such channels.

"Well," said the man who professed to know the inn's location, "if you don't mind making the venture to such a place, my lad, I'm sure I have nothing more to say."

His feelings were ruffled at having his warnings made so light of; so without more ado he directed Ezra as to the way to go to reach the inn desired.

"I thank you," said Ezra.

He went at once to the place where his horse was kept, saddled, bridled and mounted it.

"There may be some risk," he told himself, as he rode out of the guarded town. "And perhaps I should have asked Ben or Nat or George to go with me. But there is no time for that, if I am to go to-night. And like as not it is a quiet country place, with never a spice of danger in it."

The way took him along a narrow road bounded by stretches of grazing land. The sheen of the sky showed him the smooth swelling rise of two large hills ahead, the twinkling, far-off stars seemed peering down searching fearfully for dangers among the darkness.

The directions of the man at Charlestown had been unusually good, for after a deal of weaving in and out and the crossing of fields, the boy caught the twinkle of lights from a building ahead. As he came up he found a lantern swinging above the door; and mounted upon a post in the light of this he saw a rough painting of an Indian's head, which seemed to serve as a sign.

"This is the place, sure enough," he said.

He at once got down. He had probably not been heard to approach; no one came out to take his horse, so he tied it to a post near the door, slipped his long pistol into the breast of his coat, and coolly entered at the door.

The very first thing that met his eyes were two men seated upon a settle engaged in earnest talk; one had a large, plumed hat beside him on the floor; he wore long soft leather boots and a heavy sword.

"Gilbert Scarlett!" breathed Ezra.

Instantly his eyes went to the person who sat beside the adventurer.

Something that Scarlett had said seemed to amuse the other, for just as Ezra turned his attention to him, he uttered a high-pitched, disagreeable laugh.

And then, to make identification doubly sure, the head turned slightly.

And Ezra saw that the man's forehead was very narrow and very high.

CHAPTER VII

EZRA MEETS WITH A STRANGE EXPERIENCE

The two were so engrossed in their conversation that they paid not the slightest heed to the newcomer. The landlord, a thick-set, sodden-looking man with a churlish expression, however, came forward.

"Well, young gentleman?" he inquired, and he looked searchingly at Ezra out of his small eyes.

"I'd like my horse looked after," said the lad. "And then I'd be thankful for a little something for myself, if it's no great trouble."

The man shook his head surlily.

"If you want your horse attended to, you'll have to do it yourself,"

spoke he. "I have no one here to do such work. Hostlers are afraid to stay."

"Very well," replied Ezra, as he seated himself. "I'll look to him presently."

He had selected a far corner where Scarlett, if he turned, could not readily make him out.

"Cooks are just as hard to keep," stated the host grumblingly. "So if you expect much in the way of supper, you'll be disappointed."

"Whatever you have," said Ezra, pleasantly. "A dish of cold meat, the end of a loaf and some mead, if I'm not asking too much."

The man grunted.

"That's a common failing hereabouts these times," he said, preparing to go about his duties. "They all ask too much. Every one of them does."

Then with a sudden viciousness, "But they'd better stay away with their questions! I'll not have them! Not a bit of it!"