"Come view your patriot father! and your friend, And toast to freedom, and to slavery's end!" Nathan and Godfrey climbed down from the high seat, and stood looking about them. Of the half-dozen passengers in the stage some had already entered the inn, and others had trudged away in the shadows of the night. "The dear old town again!" said Nathan; and a tear glistened in his eye. "It seems too good to be true!" "I know how you feel," replied Godfrey, "and I'm sorry I can't feel that way myself. But all I'm thinking about is getting away from a place where recognition will mean danger." "And I'm in as big a hurry to leave as you are," said Nathan. "There are miles and miles between me and that farm-house on the Shrewsbury where my father is lying wounded--perhaps dead." "Not that," Godfrey answered quickly. "You will find him getting well--I'm sure of it. And where are we going first? Not to the inn, I hope--" "No," interrupted Nathan, "I'm too anxious to see Cornelius De Vries. We'll go straight there, and get supper and a night's rest, and then we'll arrange about the rest of the journey." "Lads, there's good cheer to be had inside," called the driver, as he started to lead the horses to the stable-yard. "Homly's the man to give you a meal and a bed." "Thank you, but we have friends here," Nathan replied. "All right! Good-bye, and good luck to you!" "Good-bye!" the lads answered; and then they started briskly up Fifth Street. They reached Chestnut Street, where there were plenty of lights and people, and crossed to the opposite side. On the corner Nathan halted and turned around. "There's no danger," he said, noticing his companion's uneasiness. "We'll go on in half a minute--I want to take a look at the State-House. There's a light in the big hall, and up yonder hangs the dear old bell--the bell that rang out liberty for us two years ago." "For you, not for me," Godfrey gently reminded. "Oh! I forgot!" Nathan exclaimed contritely. "Forgive me, old fellow. I should have known better than to stop you here--we'll go on now." But it was too late. During that brief interval of delay, unobserved by the lads, a ragged and sinister-looking man of middle age had been staring keenly at Godfrey, whose features were partly exposed to the glimmer of a street lamp. Now he came quickly to the spot, barring the way up Fifth Street for the lads. "It's you, is it?" he said insolently, with a leer of malice at Godfrey. "I thought I weren't mistaken. And what are you doing in Philadelphia, my fine British officer? Did you just wake up and find the red-coats gone? Or did you come over from New York to look about a little--" "You are mistaken, my good fellow," interrupted Godfrey, his face turning slightly pale. "Get out of the way," Nathan added angrily. "Don't stop us here--"