The vessel which had just come into port aroused new speculations, until it was learned that it was only a trading ship from Boston doing a little business in defiance of the navigation laws. The vessel brought only one passenger. That passenger was a beautiful young maid. She was landed soon after the vessel cast anchor, and her first inquiry was for Rebecca Stevens: "Is she a relative of yours, young maid?" asked the man of whom she inquired. "No; I know of her, and would see her." "Do you see the large brick house upon the hill--not the one on the left of the church, but to the right with the broad piazza and wires in front?" "I see it." "She lives there. It is the home of Hugh Price, who married her mother." The sailors brought some baggage ashore which was carried to a warehouse to remain until the fair traveller should send for it, and pay the costs of transfer. "Do you travel alone, young maid?" asked the man whom she had addressed. "I do." "Where is your mother?" "Dead," she answered sadly, "Then you are an orphan?" "I am. War is raging with the Indians in New England, and I was not safe there, so I came to Virginia." She thanked the man who had so kindly directed her, and went to the house of Hugh Price. This house, next to the home of Governor Berkeley, was the most elegant mansion in Virginia. On the front door was a large brass knocker, common at the time, and, seizing it, the young girl struck the door. It was opened by a negro woman whose red turban and rich dress indicated that she was the household servant of an aristocratic family. The stranger asked for Rebecca Stevens, and was shown to her room. Rebecca was astonished to see the pretty stranger; but before she could ask who she was, the maid said: "I am Ester Goffe from Massachusetts. The war with the Indians rages sorely in that land, and my friends and relatives sent me here." "Ester--Ester Goffe," stammered Rebecca. "Then you are my brother's affianced." "I am." In a moment the girls were clasped in each other's arms, mingling their tears of joy and grief. Then Rebecca held her at arm's length and, gazing on the beautiful face and soft brown eyes, said: "I don't blame Robert. How could he help loving you?" and once more she clasped her in her arms. "Where is he--where is Robert?" Rebecca started at the question, and an expression of pain swept over her face, which alarmed Ester. "Alas, he is gone. He hath fled with Bacon, and I fear that you have escaped from one calamity only to fall into another." Then she explained the distracted condition of the country, concluding with: "You must not be known here as Ester Goffe. Were it known by Sir William Berkeley, or even my mother's husband, that the child of a regicide was here, I know not what the result would be; but, alas, I fear it would be your ruin." "But can I see him?" asked Ester. "Who, Sir William Berkeley or Mr. Hugh Price?" "Robert."