"Lieutenant, take them to the guardhouse, and consider yourself under arrest till I can look into this matter. Don't you know better than to draw your sword against a citizen in this way?" The lieutenant made no reply, but looked savagely at Robert, as if to say, "I'll have it out with you sometime," sheathed his sword and turned away, following the crestfallen soldiers to the guardhouse. Colonel Dalrymple bowed courteously, as if to apologize for the insult to the lady. Robert came to the conclusion that he was a gentleman. The negroes were laughing and chuckling and telling the rapidly gathering crowd what had happened. Robert, having no desire to be made conspicuous, walked up Queen Street. He tarried a moment to look at the iron-grated windows and double-bolted doors of the jail, then turned down Hanover Street and made his way to the Green Dragon. III. THE SONS OF LIBERTY. "Is it far to Doctor Warren's house?" Robert asked of the landlord after supper. "Oh no, only a few steps around the corner on Hanover Street. So you are going to call on him, just as your father always does. You will find him a nice gentleman. He is kind to the poor, charging little or nothing when they are sick and need doctoring. He isn't quite thirty years old, but there isn't a doctor in town that has a larger practice. He is a true patriot. I heard a man say the other day that if Joe Warren would only let politics alone he would soon be riding in his own coach. The rich Tories don't like him much. They say it was he who gave Governor Bernard such a scorching in Ben Edes's newspaper awhile ago. He is eloquent when he gets fired up. You ought to hear him in town meeting; you won't find him stuck up one mite; you can talk with him just as you do with me." With the cheese under his arm Robert walked along Hanover Street to Doctor Warren's house[17]. It was a wooden building standing end to the road. Entering a small yard, he rattled the knocker on the door. The doctor opened it. [Footnote 17: The home of Doctor Warren stood upon the spot now occupied by the American House. It was a plain structure and was surrounded a garden. Mrs. Warren--Elizabeth Hooton before marriage--was the daughter of Richard Hooton, a merchant possessing large wealth. She was beautiful in person and character. She died May, 1773. The Boston _Gazette_ contained an appreciative tribute to her worth. "Good sense and modesty with virtue crowned; A sober mind when fortune smiled or frowned. So keen a feeling for a friend distressed, She could not bear to see a man oppressed."] "Good-evening; will you walk in?" he said. It was a pleasant, cheery voice, one to make a sick person feel well. "Please step into the office." Robert entered a room smelling of rhubarb, jalap, ipecac, and other medicines in bottles and packages on the shelves. Sincere and hearty were the thanks of Doctor Warren for the present. "I want Mrs. Warren to make your acquaintance," he said.