“And so they did.” said Moffat. “Ben tits said he’d swear it on the Bible.”
“Then how do you account for it?” said Hewitt. “Well, it’s true enough they had been drinking,” Moffat said with a shrug. And think on it, would a manas proud of his knife-throwing as Ransome Howard admit it if he’d missed?”
The people in the crowd around them nodded and murmured among themselves. “But you said they saw the horseman vanish like a ghost!” said someone in the crowd.
“So they said.” admitted Moffat. “For my own part. I cannot attest to the truth or falsity of that, since I was not there myself.”
“Then how do you explain it?” someone said.
“Yes.” said someone else, “one drunken man can have his eyes play tricks on him, but you say they all saw the same thing.”
“Well, so they say,” said Drakov. “But then, gentlemen, consider the alternative.”
“What do you mean?” asked Brown.
You all tell me what a bold and swaggering lot the ruffians who call themselves the Sons of Liberty have become,” said Drakov. “And how many of them were there that night, five, six, more? And doubtless, there were those present in the tavern who were not among their number, and who prudently chose to remain inside rather than risk being caught up in a brawl out in the street. Yet they saw that someone had thrown that pumpkin through the window, knocking Macintosh down to the floor. And they doubtless heard the commotion in the street, and then saw Stiles being carried back inside with his ribs all busted up. What were the gallant Sons of Liberty to say, that six or more of them were bested by one man? That one man put them all to flight?”
The crowd murmured its agreement.
“Even so, Dark,” said Hewitt, “why should they concoct such an outrageous story? Why not simply claim they were outnumbered?”
“Perhaps,” said Drakov, “because there was a witness or two who were not among their number, not members of the Sons of Liberty, that is to say, who were outside with them and could assert that they were only up against one man. And. gentlemen, let us ask ourselves, if what they saw was not, in fact, a spirit of some sort, then what must they have seen? A man dressed all in black, on horseback, perhaps with his cloak pulled up so that they could not see his face? Is it not possible that rather than vanish, he merely galloped quickly down some convenient alleyway when they scattered before his horse, so that he only seemed to disappear?”
“That sounds much more plausible to me than the idea of some ghost.” said Hewitt. “In which case, bravo to that man! Let us drink a toast to him!”
“Hear, hear!” said a few people in the crowd.
“Yes, by all means, let us applaud that man, whoever he may be.” Drakov concurred. “But, gentlemen, before we drink our toast, let us consider that we might well profit from that unknown man’s example.
“Indeed?” said Brown. “How so?”
“Consider the Sons of Liberty, gentlemen,” said Drakov. “Who are they? What are they? Men much like ourselves, no more, no less. And yet, day by day, it appears that more and more, the city falls under their grip. And why, I ask you? Because they arc better men than we?”
“No, by God!” said Brown.
“Indeed, no, they are not,” said Drakov. “And yet what makes them so different from ourselves that they seem to have such power? What. precisely, is their power, gentlemen? That, with the exception of a very few, their members are not known.”
“But we all know who they are,” protested Brown.
“Do we?” Drakov asked. “How many of them can you name? Six? Eight? Ten, perhaps? Fifteen or twenty. at best? Yet when they stage their demonstrations, how many of them are there? Forty, fifty, sixty or more? When they come to threaten people in the night, are not many of them masked, or their faces blackened with burnt cork?”
“Yes, that’s true enough.” one of the tax commissioners said. “I can readily attest to that.”
“Their power. Then,” said Drakov. “seems to lie in the fact that they accomplish much of what they do by stealth. By being unknown, by heaving stones through windows in the night and such. And now, it seems, a loyal subject of King George has given them a taste of their own medicine, paid them back in their own coin.” He raised his eyebrows and looked around at them. “Can we not learn from his example, gentlemen?”
John Hewitt smiled. “A wise man can always profit by the good example of another.” he said. “I wonder who our ‘headless horseman’ is. And I wonder if he will ride again soon?”
“I should not be in the least surprised.” said Moffat.
“In the meantime,” Drakov said, “perhaps his fellow loyal subjects of King George should discuss how best to give the horseman our support?”
“What do you propose, Nicholas?” said Brown.
“Gentlemen,” said Drakov, picking up his glass of wine, “the Sons of Liberty are bent upon visiting their deviltry upon us. They give us deviltry, 1 say we rebel against it and pay them back with hellfire!”
“Hear, hear!”
“Well said! Well said!”
“Gentlemen,” said Drakov, rising to his feet with upraised glass. “I give you the headless horseman! And all those with the courage to ride along beside him!”
“I’ll drink to that!”
“And so will I. by God!”
“Me, too!”
“Your glasses, gentlemen! Raise up your glasses!”
“To the headless horseman!” Moffat said. “Hellfire to the Sons of Liberty!”
They all joined in the toast and drank.
“To the headless horseman! Hellfire to the Sons of Liberty!”
“I wonder.” Moffat said, as if musing to himself, “does anyone among us stable a black stallion?”
They all started glancing at one another.
“John, don’t you have a black stallion in your stable?” Moffat asked.
“What, me? The headless horseman?” Hewitt said, with a snort. “Not I. It’s true. I have a black horse in my stable, but it is an old mare. A walking country horse. Hardly the sort of mount for clattering about the streets of Boston in the middle of the night!”
“Stoddard has a black horse!” someone cried. “And it’s a stallion, too!”
“No, no, my stallion is a bay!” Stoddard protested.
“Perhaps it was a bay they saw that night!”
“No. it was black, they said, like jet.”
“Gentlemen. gentlemen!’” said Drakov. raising his arms to get their attention. He waited till they’d settled down. “What does it profit us to speculate upon who this man might he?”
“Do you happen to own a black stallion. Mr. Dark?” said someone in the crowd.
“As it happens. I do not own any horses whatsoever,” Drakov said. “And these gentlemen can tell you. I had not yet arrived in Boston when the headless horseman first made his appearance. so I think that we can all safely assume I am not he.”
“Yes, that’s quite true,” said Hewitt. “Nicholas has only just arrived in the colonies. He does not even have a place to call his own yet.”
“Quite so, gentlemen,” said Drakov. “But my point is simply this. Our mysterious horseman may be among us even now, for all we know, or he might be dining at this very moment in some other part of town, altogether unaware of our interest in him. In either event, what difference does it make? He serves all our interests best by being unknown. Remember that if we cannot discern his true identity, then neither can the Sons of Liberty.
“Your point is well taken. Dark.” said Brown. “But then how may we let him know that there are those among us ready and willing to lend him our support?”
“Well, our horseman is clearly a Tory, that much we know,” said Drakov. “And we all know who our fellow Tories are, do we not? I say we spread the word among all of our friends. That way, whoever he may be, the word must surely reach him. Let it be known that there are those among us who stand ready to oppose the lawlessness of Samuel Adams and his mob. And if the horseman wants our help, then surely a man of his resources must find a way to tell us.”
“You think he will respond?” said Hewitt.