Part 23 (1/2)

From these indications Ezra Prentiss drew that there was something of moment about to happen. But the exact nature of it all, for he could place no dependence upon the gossip that reached him, was not made known to him until the morning of the fifteenth of June when he and Scarlett went to make their daily report to Major Buckstone.

That bluff, honest old soldier was seated frowning over some papers.

”Hah!” said he to Ezra, as the sentry led them in, ”here is a communication just come to me regarding you, young sir. It will require your attention at once.”

Ezra took the paper from the major's hand and scanned it. It ran as follows:

”Major Buckstone:

”Sir:-When George Prentiss, my grandson, next reports to you, inform him that his presence is required at my house in Sun Court at once.

”Your obliged and humble servant, ”Seth Prentiss.”

”I will go immediately,” said the boy. ”Thank you, Major Buckstone.”

They left the headquarters and proceeded along the street in the direction of the old merchant's mansion.

”Something,” said Gilbert Scarlett, ”is in the air. Within an hour you will be much wiser than you are now at this moment.”

”It must be of more than ordinary importance,” said Ezra. ”For he said on that last night at his house, you remember, that he never wanted to see me or hear of me again.”

”Until you had cleared yourself of mishandling Major Buckstone's dispatch,” the other reminded him. ”Perhaps the chance has now come for you to do that.”

The two parted at the point where Fish Street opened into Prince's; Scarlett went his way toward the ”Jolly Rover,” while Ezra continued along Prince's until he reached Sun Court.

The boy's knock brought an immediate answer. The grave-faced man servant showed his pleasure at sight of the youth.

”Your grandfather has been expecting you, Master George,” said he. ”I will tell him that you have arrived.”

To be constantly forced to move under false colors was a bitter thing for Ezra. He was a lad who was frankness itself and one who detested methods that smacked of trickery. But to have all in Boston continue to believe him to be his brother George he felt was necessary if he was to aid the colonial cause. There was not a moment of his stay in Boston, during this period, or a time that he answered to his brother's name, that his honesty and shame did not urge him to proclaim himself. But he stubbornly held this impulse in check.

”If it were a matter of my own,” he frequently told himself, ”I could act as I saw fit. But this matter is not my own.”

His grandfather greeted him in his library, a stately room filled with morning suns.h.i.+ne, and furnished after the stiff fas.h.i.+on of that day.

Seated at a window with a tall volume upon his knees, was a striking-looking officer, attired in the brilliant uniform of a British general.

”I would not have thought you interested in such things as this, Mr.

Prentiss,” this gentleman was saying, not noticing the boy's entrance.

”It denotes rare judgment and taste in the binding. And the book itself is very rare,” with much admiration. ”I know of only one other in existence.”

”The gathering of such was a folly of my son's,” said the old man sternly.

”Folly!” The soldier laughed amusedly. ”Well, that's all to one's taste, I suppose. But for my part, the more follies of this sort,” nodding toward a great heap of other books which he apparently had already inspected, ”a man possesses, the more apt I would be to like him.”

”And he was not alone in his folly,” said the old merchant. ”He left two sons, both of whom have inherited more or less of his manner of thought.” He gestured grimly toward Ezra as he added: ”This is one of them.”

The general looked over his shoulder at the boy; then he arose, brus.h.i.+ng traces of dust, left by the books, from his immaculate uniform. He was a polished man of the world, plainly a scholar and unquestionably a gentleman.

”Ah, yes,” said he. He took a step toward Ezra and held out his hand. ”I ask your pardon,” he continued, ”and am greatly pleased to see you.”