The Young Continentals at Bunker Hill Part 14

One of Pennington's hands pa.s.sed over his face; it was trembling, and, like his countenance, was pale. He spoke hastily to Ezra, trying hard to keep the eagerness out of his voice.

"You must have had a most extraordinary experience," remarked he. "And did you succeed in delivering this message at the house of this gentleman-ah," as though trying to recall the name, then giving up the attempt, "the gentleman with the foreign name?"

"I did," replied Ezra. "And I trust that Master Scarlett bears me no ill-will because of the manner in which I became his messenger."

"Not the least in life," said Scarlett. "It is a man's right to defend himself against all comers on the road. But you conducted the mission with which I entrusted you oddly. You set these people, whoever they are, by the ears. From what I learned in a short talk with them, you deceived them in sundry ways; and it ended in their house being burned down and they," with a laugh, "becoming wanderers upon the face of the earth."

"I delivered the papers as I promised," said Ezra. "I told the people at the house nothing, but they took much for granted. What resulted was much their own fault."

Pennington had listened with interest.

"Were you by any chance entrusted with a message in reply to the one you carried?" he asked with eagerness.

"I was," returned the boy frankly.

"And to whom were you to deliver it?" asked Scarlett. "And where?"

"To a Mr. Pennington," replied Ezra, evenly. "And at this inn."

"So!" Scarlett lay back in the settle, his arms folded upon his chest and his booted legs stretched out straight before him. "And how were you to know this gentleman?"

"I was to inquire of the landlord."

Impulsively Scarlett rose up.

"I will save you the trouble," said he. "The matter, in a measure, is my own," apologetically to Ezra, "so I trust you will pardon me." He lifted his voice and called: "Landlord!"

There came a grumbling, unintelligible answer from the kitchen; but the host did not present himself.

"I took him to be a surly, sour-mouthed villain from the first,"

commented Scarlett. "And as he will not come to me, I will go to him.

And I'll warrant you he'll tell what I want to know, or I'll have him dance you a measure that he'll not like."

So with a hitch at his sword belt and a twirl at his moustache, the speaker clanked into the kitchen, from which his voice came a moment later with commanding insistence.

And no sooner had he vanished than Pennington bent eagerly toward Ezra.

"You know me, of course?" said he.

As Ezra did not reply, the man continued in a low, rapid tone:

"You saw me frequently at your grandfather's house at Boston."

A thrill ran through Ezra. He now understood that first surprised look.

The man mistook him for his twin brother, George. But the boy shook his head as though in doubt.

"I have no recollection of you," he answered.

The man regarded him searchingly.

"Your name is Prentiss?"

"It is."

"You are the grandson of Seth Prentiss?"

"I am."

The man evidenced his satisfaction.

"You are he whom I took you to be," he said. He studied the lad carefully for a moment. "Upon second thought I do not wonder that you fail to recall me," continued he. "If I remember rightly, I have always been somewhat given to hesitancy in my manner of showing myself." Here he laughed his disagreeable laugh. "A man in my particular profession must not be too forward."

"And what is your profession?" asked Ezra.

"I am the confidential agent of-of others," replied the man. "In point of fact I am the very man you came here to see."

"Not Mr. Pennington!"

"That is my name," returned the man. "And now," with a quick look toward the kitchen, where, judging by the sounds that came from it, a very stormy interview was taking place, "give me the message sent by Abdallah. I have been trying to get into communication with him, but could not do so. I had no notion of what had happened until I heard some fragments of the story from this loud-mouthed soldier."

The landlord's voice now came from the kitchen in loud denial.

"I tell you, sir, I know nothing of the gentleman you ask for."

"And I tell you that you do. Don't think to pull the wool over my eyes.

Give me full information of this Master Pennington, or I'll spit you on this skewer and toast you over your own fire."

"I do not pretend to understand anything that has happened," said Pennington to Ezra, swiftly and very low. "You'll have your own good time to explain all that. But," with a fearful glance at the kitchen door, "the matter of the dispatch which Abdallah gave you is perhaps urgent. And all the more so from being delayed."

The uproar in the kitchen, if such a thing were possible, grew louder.

But Ezra paid no heed to it.

"It is impossible for me to turn the paper over to you now," he answered quietly.

The man stared at him.

"And why?" he asked.

"Because I no longer have it."

"What!" Pennington sprang up, his high, narrow forehead flushing. "Then who has?"

"I think," said the boy, "that it is in the hands of one who will make good use of it."

Consternation was written deeply in the face of Master Pennington; he had raised a clenched hand, an exclamation trembled upon his lips when the landlord rushed into the room amid a great clatter of pans and kettles. He was pale of face and affrighted of manner; and close at his heels, with his drawn sword in his hand, strode the adventurer, Gilbert Scarlett.