A Frenchman's sash-belt. A head-dress.

AMESBURY
(hurriedly fastening on his disguise).
Where are yours, Dick?

RICHARD.
Hush! (Touches his knee.) I cannot scale a ladder. Listen! Here's
Winwood.

WINWOOD
(bursting in).
Paul Revere, John Hancock, Dr. Warren--all come with us. I've run ahead
to tell you they'll meet us on the way. Give me disguises. (They clap
an Indian robe across his shoulders, and he takes an armful of Indian
finery.) John Hancock says there's a boat and oars at the foot of the
wharves, and Paul Revere will lead us. Come quickly, lads!

[He dashes out the door, with his armful of finery. The others follow
one by one, as their readiness of costume determines.

RICHARD
(to himself).
And Paul Revere will lead them!

RIGBY
(his hand on Richard's shoulder).
Richard, you've been the brains, and we are but the fingers! We toss
the tea: but 'twas your heart that planned it. Will you not serve us--
serve us here on land? If any British come, see they don't go a-roving.