Master Revere’s shop was not yet opened, but the young messenger had little difficulty in arousing the household, and a few moments later he was standing in a room which, although not furnished with any pretension to elegance, was more rich in ornamentation than Walter had ever fancied could be found.

Master Revere did not keep him waiting very long; he had received too many visitors at unseemly hours to make any delay, and the sun had but just risen when Walter’s mission was accomplished.

“You have come in good time, young sir,” Master Revere said, when the boy had repeated the message.

“The ship on which the stamp distributor for the Province of New Hampshire sailed from London arrived last evening.  I will see him at once, and before noon you shall take to your friends such information as I have to give.  In the meanwhile you will eat breakfast, and then my eldest son shall act as host, unless you prefer to sleep, for you have been travelling all night.”

“I can sleep later, sir; but now that I am in Boston I would like to see the city.”

“So you shall.  You will find much that is fair and comely to look upon; but beneath all the air of bravery is the disquietude of oppression, and the sense of wrongs yet to be wiped out.”

“In the province from which I have come we believe the remedy for oppression to be among ourselves, sir,” Walter replied, modestly.

“So it is, lad; and may you be one not lacking in wholesome love for your country when the time for action arrives.”

I fear a boy like me will be of but little service.”

“The boys may be men before the time for stirring deeds shall come,” Master Revere said, much as if speaking to himself; and then he added, quickly, “You will break your fast with me.”

Walter was not accustomed to such a meal as was speedily placed before him; but the novelty of his surroundings did not prevent him from doing full justice to the food.

When the master of the house set out to perform the duty expected of him by his friends in Portsmouth, young John took charge of the guest, and from that time until nearly noon Walter feasted his eyes upon such wonders as he had never even dreamed about.

His first visit was to the magnificent building presented to the city by Peter Faneuil, and then to that elm at the head of Essex Street beneath the branches of which the association known as the Sons of Liberty had sprung into existence.

Here young Revere told him what had occurred during the month of August, when on the tree he was then gazing at had been found hanging an effigy of Andrew Oliver, his majesty’s distributor of stamps for the Province of Massachusetts, and a boot, symbolical of Lord Bute, with Satan peeping out of it as he displayed a copy of the Stamp Act.  John also described the scenes when the more lawless members of the community destroyed the building which had been erected as the office for the sale of stamps, and the dwelling of the Lieutenant Governor was sacked.