by the fortifications
on the Neck, said to themselves he was an old farmer, but were
surprised to see him, after passing them, going like the wind out
towards Roxbury, to the Parting Stone, then turning towards Cambridge,
making the gravel fly from her heels as she tore along the road.

* * * * *

Berinthia Brandon, sitting in her chamber, looking out into the
starlit night, saw the faint light of the rising moon along the
eastern horizon. Twilight was still lingering in the western sky. In
the gloaming, she saw the sailors of the warships and transports were
stepping into their boats and floating with the incoming tide up the
Charles. What was the meaning of it? She ran downstairs and told her
father and Tom what she had seen; and Tom, seizing his hat, tore along
Salem Street and over the bridge across Mill Creek to Doctor Warren's.
The clock on the Old Brick Meetinghouse was striking ten when he
rattled the knocker.

[Illustration: Paul Revere's House.]

"The boats are on their way up the river with the tide," he said, out
of breath with his running.

Abraham Duncan came in, also out of breath.

"The lobsters are marching across the Common, toward Barton's Point,"
he said.

"All of which means, they are going to take the boats and cross
Charles River, instead of marching by way of Roxbury," said the
doctor, reflecting a moment.

He asked Tom if he would please run down to North Square and ask Paul
Revere to come and see him.

A few minutes later Revere was there.

"I've already sent Dawes, but for fear Gage's spies may pick him up, I
want you to take the short cut to Lexington and alarm people on your
way; you'll have to look sharp for Gage's officers. Tell Newman to
hang out the two signals."

Revere hastened down Salem Street, whispered a word in the ear of
Robert Newman, ran to his own home for his overcoat, told two young
men to accompany him, then ran to the riverside and stepped into his
boat. The great black hull of the frigate Somerset rose before him. By
the light of the rising moon he could see a marine, with his gun on
his shoulder, pacing the deck; but no challenge came, and the rowers
quickly landed him in Charlestown.[54]

[Footnote 54: In the _Tales of a Wayside Inn_, the poet Longfellow
represents Paul Revere as impatiently waiting beside his horse, on the
Charlestown shore, for the signal lights:--

"On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.