Once again the beset man looked to right and left, rage and mortification united. Then, with a remark below his breath, he sang in a very tuneless bass, that wandered at will between flat and sharp, with not a little falsetto:-- "Come join Hand in Hand, brave Americans all, And rouse your bold Hearts at fair Liberty's Call; No tyrannous Acts shall suppress your just Claim Or stain with Dishonour America's Name-- In Freedom we're born and in Freedom we'll live. Our Purses are ready-- Steady, Friends, Steady-- Not as Slaves, but as Freemen our Money we'll give." "That 's enough!" remarked the ringleader. "Now, Watson, let the squire sign that broadside. Take the pot off, boys, and dump the tea on the fire. Good-evening, squire, and sweet dreams to you; I hope 't will be long before you make us walk eight miles again. Fall in, Invincibles. You've struck your first blow for freedom." For a moment the steady tramp of the departing men was all that broke the stillness of the night; but as they marched they fell into song, and there came drifting back to the trio standing silent about the porch the air of "Hearts of Oak," and the words:-- "Then join Hand in Hand, brave Americans all! To be free is to live, to be Slaves is to fall; Has the Land such a Dastard, as scorns not a Lord, Who dreads not a Fetter much more than a Sword? In Freedom we're born, and, like Sons of the Brave, We'll never surrender, But swear to defend her, And scorn to survive, if unable to save." XVIII FIGUREHEADS AND LEADERS The squire's mood in the next few days was anything but genial, and his family, his servants, his farm-hands, his tenants, and in fact all whom he encountered, received a share of his spleen.