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musket, and he was carried away by two of his fellow exiles. Tall, erect and calm as a summer morn, Monsieur De Barre uttered no word of complaint. He was near to his son when he recovered, but offered no word of consolation. Father and son were taken aboard the same ship, and sailed for New York. “Adrianne! Oh, Adriannel where is she?” cried Jean in agony, as the ship bowled along under easy sail. “Perchance she will follow, as all are to be sent to the English colonies.” “The English colonies!" cried Jean. “May curses heap on the English colonies!” “My son,” interrupted Monsieur De Barre, “pray do not repeat that.” {{ Why?" “I am going home. I am an Englishman. I was carried into captivity to the French dominion in America, and I am being returned and set at liberty by captivity.” “Father, are you mad?” “No; what I tell you is true. I am no Frenchman. My name is not De Barre; but wait until some more favorable time, and I will explain this mystery.” So grieved was Jean at the loss of Adrianne, that he had forgotten his father's revelation when they reached New York, and set out at once to find his affianced from whom he had been so ruthlessly torn, though he was so ill from the blow of the soldier's musket as to be delirious at times.

CHAPTER X.
WASHINGTON.

Can tyrants but by tyrants conquered be,
And freedom find no champion and no child,
Such as Columbia saw arise when she
Sprung forth a Pallas, armed and undefiled?
Or must such minds be nourished in the wild,
Deep in the unpruned forest, 'midst the roar
Of cataracts, where Nature smiled
On infant Washington? Hath earth no more
Such deeds within her breast, or Europe no such shore?
—BYRON

AFTER the destruction of Jamestown, Virginia, during Bacon's rebellion, Williamsburg became the seat of government for the colony, and was the largest town in the dominion. It remained the seat of government until the War of the Revolution, when it became the capital, until 1779.

At the time of our story, Williamsburg was a thriving little town, and the centre of fashion and commerce. Noah Stevens, who had led a sort of roving life, returned to Williamsburg in the winter of 1747 and 1748, with the intention of taking a

course in the William and Mary's college. The youth had scarcely commenced his studies, when one evening, as he was taking a stroll about the suburbs of the town, he encountered a pair of soft brown eyes peering at him from beneath a hood. He turned quickly to see a shy and modest maiden in a sleigh driven by a negro slave, hastening away. Only one glance,—but a second,-yet that was sufficient for cupid to fasten his dart into his heart. “Who is she?” he asked himself again and again. The maiden was, beyond question, a stranger in Williamsburg. Noah questioned his mother, but neither she nor his sister knew aught of her. “I will make inquiry,” said Rebecca, “and ascertain who she is.” Rebecca Stevens was one of the best sisters brother ever had. She seemed to anticipate the wishes of her older brother and to comply with them. As we remarked a few moments ago, Noah had led a roving life. He had enrolled in the company of Captain Lawrence Washington, the half brother of George Washington and about fifteen years his senior. Under Admiral Vernon he had served in the Spanish war and assisted in the capture of Porto Bello and Darien, in 1740. “Yes, brother Noah, I will learn who she is and

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“Do, sister.” “Which way did the sleigh go?” “Over the great hill toward the old manor house, east of the town.” “She must be the daughter of the rich man, who built the great stone house last year.” The mother was quite sure Rebecca was correct. “What is his name?” Noah asked. Rebecca reflected a moment and said: “It is something like Saturday, or Saturley.” Just then a younger sister declared: “Becca, there is a field in the name some where.” “Saturfield,” cried Rebecca. “Saturfield—I don't know that I ever heard the name before; yet it is quite a common one, I dare say. Where did they come from?" “England, of course.” “Direct?” “I suppose so.” Then Mrs. Stevens, who was plying her knitting, asked: “Didn't they come from the south?’” “I don't think so, mother, for Captain Washington said something about Mr. Saturfield being in England.” “Does Captain Washington know him?” “Yes.”

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