CHAPTER XII.
THE DAUGHTER OF A REGICIDE.
When thy beauty appears In its graces and airs, All bright as an angel new dropped from the sky At a distance I gaze and am awed at my fears, So strangely you dazzle my eyes.
-- PARNELL.
One bright morning in autumn a ship from Virginia entered Boston Harbor.
The appearance of a vessel was not an uncommon sight, and this one attracted little more than passing comment.

Passengers were coming ashore and among them a stalwart youth of eighteen.

His eyes wandered about over the town while the breeze played with his long hair hanging about his shoulders.

He wore the costume of a cavalier, with a low-crowned, broad-brimmed hat and plume; but his face had all the grave aspect of a Puritan.
He asked no questions on landing, but went up to the Common, where a fencing-master had erected a stage and was walking back and forth upon it with a rapier in his hand, saying: "Come, any who will, and fight me with swords." Near him were a dozen or two swords of all kinds.

The new-comer paused near the platform on which the boaster stood and gazed at him in wonder.
"I have been on this platform for several days, defying any man to fence with me.