Tony finally consented, thinking he would rather watch with Larry in the church than stay in his room at home alone in the dark. When Aunt Mercy returned, she filled the big iron pot with water, hung it on the crane and swung it over the blazing logs. “We are going to have pudding and milk for supper,” she said, “and we won’t wait for your uncle; he’s away, and may not be back until late into the night.” At these words Larry glanced significantly at Tony and gave a wise little nod. * * * * * With the going down of the sun the cold rapidly increased. The night was clear and frosty. In front of the little wooden meeting-house on Durham Hill stood the two brothers shivering with cold and excitement. “Whew!” exclaimed Larry, pulling his cap down over his ears, “it’s a sharp night, Tony. Come farther this way; the meeting-house will keep off the wind.” “Shall we have to wait long, Larry?” asked Tony. Larry glanced at the moon just rising above the treetops. “I think it’s past the time now. Oh, I wonder what it is they are going to do.” “P’raps they are going to cross the ocean and take the king prisoner. I don’t think he treats us very well nowadays,” said Tony plaintively. Larry laughed. “I guess they won’t go quite as far as that. Oh, Tony! if I were a man, they would take me. It’s so provoking to be only a boy. I’m just big enough to want to be of some use, but not old enough to be trusted.” He drew Tony back in the shelter of the church and waited with his eyes fixed on the flowing Piscataqua which swept around the base of the hill on which they stood, and at the next turn widened into the broad expanse known as “The Great Bay.” It was upon the banks of this river that some of the bloodiest scenes of the early Indian wars had been enacted. Again and again had its shores resounded with warwhoops as the red men under cover of night rowed their canoes up to the infant settlements of New Hampshire and spared neither man, woman, nor child in the slaughter which followed. Across the river, in full view of the meeting-house, was a log fort known as the “Old Block House” which had served on many occasions as a refuge for the early settlers and enabled them to keep their savage foes at bay. “It’s cold--and--lonesome out here,” said Tony with a shiver, glancing involuntarily at the “Block House.” “You don’t mean to say you’re afraid of the Block House, Tony! Why, you are always glad of a chance to play there, afternoons.” “Yes--but that was in the daytime. Out here in the dark I don’t like to think of the people who have been killed there.” “Tony! If we come to blows with England you won’t make a very good soldier. Now I’d like no better fun than to be in the Block House with a lot of screeching Indians outside. But we mustn’t talk so loud--and remember--if we hear the least noise we are to scamper into the meeting-house and hide.”