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The air was silent, as though the world were dead. The taverners listened long in front of the tavern for the sound of horses’ feet on the Lebanon road.

“Will the Governor come alone?” asked Dennis O’Hay of Israel Putnam, the rider.

“Yes, my sailor friend; who is there to harm him?”

“But there will be danger. There ought to be a guard on the Lebanon road. Did not the Governor save the powder, ammunition, and stores, in the northern war? So they said at Norwich. Some day General Gage will put a long eyes on him.”

“Silence!”

The taverners went into the tavern and sat down in the common room.

“I will wait until midnight before I go to my room. My message to the Governor must be delivered as soon as he returns.”

The public room was lighted with candles, and a fire was kindled on the hearth. It was spring, but a hearth fire had a cheerful glow even then.

The taverners talked of the military events around Boston town, then told stories of adventure. Dennis came from the store, and sat down with the rest.