In New Haven, which they entered on a bright, sunny forenoon, a newly formed company was awkwardly drilling on the green, in sight of the churches and the college building. While the horse rested, Dick got into conversation with a young gentleman who stood watching the crude manoeuvres. Learning that he was Mr. Timothy Dwight, a tutor at the college, Dick obtained the favor of a view of the college library, and had the delightful sensation of handling copies of Newton's works and Sir Richard Steele's, presented by those authors themselves. The scenes of military preparation witnessed here and at Brentford increased Dick's eagerness to be at the scene of action. Riding on Sunday through Seabrooke and to New London, he and Tom had difficulty, by reason of the strict observance of the day, in obtaining tavern accommodations. But, as Tom remarked, the rule of not letting the left hand know what the right one does may work both ways and concern the receiving as well as the giving of money, and their coin at last found takers. At New London, where the New York and Boston stage-coach was resting over Sunday, they learned from its passengers that both the British and the provincials had barriers on Boston Neck, that the provincials barred Charlestown Neck as well, and that no one could come out of Boston without a pass from General Gage, while the American army allowed no one to enter Boston without a permit. The _Connecticut Gazette_ was full of war tidings. All these signs of the times made Dick glow with delightful anticipation. The two comrades crossed the Thames, by ferry, to Groton, the next morning, and in the forenoon they passed by fair green slopes and blossoming orchards to the village of Stonington, which lay drowsily on a point of land that jutted out into a beautifully surrounded bay.