A Century Too Soon Part 23

"Whom do you wish to see?"

"Some relatives named Stevens."

"Is your name Stevens?"

"It is, sir."

"And you are from Virginia?" the old man asked.

"Verily, you have guessed it, sir. Who may you be?"

Without answering him, the strange swordsman seized his arm, saying:

"Come with me; I am going to the house of Mathew Stevens. What is your father's name?"

"John Stevens was his name; but he is dead. He went on a voyage and was lost at sea when I was quite young."

"And your grandfather was--"

"Philip Stevens, the friend of Captain John Smith."

"I know of him. We will go to the home of your relatives." He led Robert over the hill toward a neat looking house, one of the best in Boston.

The old man was nervous and frequently halted to look about, as if expecting pursuit.

"Surely you have no one to fear?" said Robert.

"Whom should I fear--the man whose face I plastered with mud? I carry a sword at my side, and he could not fight me in a single combat."

"But he said something. He called you a name."

"What name?"

"Goffe."

"What know you of Goffe, pray?"

"I have heard of him. My mother's husband frequently spoke of him as a regicide."

The swordsman gazed on him for a moment, and asked:

"Do you know what a regicide is?"

"A king-killer."

"Well, my young cavalier, when a king has been convicted of treason, should he not suffer death as the humblest peasant in the land?"

"He should," cried Robert, on whose republican soul the argument fell with a delightful sensation. "A king is but a man and no better than the poorest in the realm."

"Ha! young cavalier from Virginia, dare you utter those words in your own colony?"

"No; I left my colony because I could not abide there."

"What! a fugitive?"

"I escaped prison by the aid of friends and fled to Boston."

"And wherefore, pray, were you imprisoned?"

"On the charges of my mother's husband and a false friend in whom I trusted."

General Goffe shook his white locks and said:

"So young, and made to feel the grinding heel of the despot! Verily the suffering race of Adam will claim their rights some time."

They reached the home of Mathew Stevens, a large old-fas.h.i.+oned New England house, and were admitted at once.

Robert was conscious of being in the presence of several strange but kindly faces. There was an old man and woman with some young people of his own age. Then he noticed among them a beautiful, fairy-like little creature, some four years younger than himself, who, at sight of the white-haired man, rushed toward him and, placing her arms about his neck, cried:

"Father, father, father!"

"Ester, my child," the swordsman returned, "have you been happy?"

"Happy as one could be with father away."

"Now that I have returned, you need sorrow no more."

All the while Robert Stevens was standing on the threshold waiting an invitation to enter. The aged patriarch at last seized the arm of General Goffe and asked:

"Whom have we here?"

The general, in the joy of meeting his daughter from whom he had been separated, had forgotten Robert.

"This is Robert Stevens, your relative from Virginia."

"Robert, I knew your father; I heard he was lost at sea."

"He was," Robert answered sadly.

"And your mother?"

"Has married Hugh Price, a cavalier."

Robert told a part of his story, ending with the announcement that he was forced to fly from home to escape prosecution for treason. This he told with much reluctance, for it was a poor recommendation that he was an escaped prisoner.

When all was known, Robert found an abundance of sympathy, and was told that he might make his home with his relatives, until he could be provided for.

Then followed long weeks, months and years of the most delightful period of his life. His relatives were kind. Their home was attractive; but kind relatives and an attractive home were not the chief magnets which attracted him to the spot. It was the joy of a pair of soft brown eyes which held him. Ester Goffe was the most interesting person at Boston.

She was a creature born to inspire one with love. She was young, hardly yet budded into womanhood, when first he saw her. Day by day and week by week she seemed to him to grow in beauty and goodness.