The struggle that followed was short and decisive. Animated by the voice and example of their leader, the small band attacked their savage enemies with such vigor and show of discipline that in very few minutes the Indians were in full flight for the wilderness, leaving a considerable number of dead upon the ground. Of the villagers only two or three had fallen. The grateful people, when the turmoil and confusion of the affray were over, turned to thank their venerable leader for his invaluable aid. To their surprise he was nowhere to be seen. He had vanished in the same mysterious manner as he had appeared. They looked at one another in bewilderment. What did this strange event signify? Had God really sent one of his angels from heaven, in response to their prayers, to rescue them from destruction? Such was the conclusion to which some of the people came, while the most of them believed that there was some miracle concerned in their strange preservation. This interesting story, which tradition has preserved in the form here given, has a no less interesting sequel. We know, what most of the villagers never knew, who their preserver was, and how it happened that he came so opportunely to their rescue. To complete our narrative we must go back years in time, to the date of 1649, the year of the execution of Charles I. of England. Fifty-nine signatures had been affixed to the death-warrant of this royal criminal. A number of the signers afterwards paid the penalty of that day's work on the scaffold. We are concerned here only with two of them, Generals Whalley and Goffe, who, after the death of Cromwell and the return of Charles II., fled for safety to New England, knowing well what would be their fate if found in their mother-land. A third of the regicides, Colonel Dixwell, afterwards joined them in America, but his story is void of the romance which surrounded that of his associates. Whalley and Goffe reached Boston in July, 1660. The vessel that brought them brought also tidings that Charles II. was on the throne. The fugitives were well received. They had stood high in the Commonwealth, brought letters of commendation from Puritan ministers in England, and hoped to dwell in peace in Cambridge, where they decided to fix their residence. But the month of November brought a new story to Boston. In the Act of Indemnity passed by Parliament the names of Whalley and Goffe were among those left out. They had played a part in the execution of the king, and to the regicides no mercy was to be shown. Their estates were confiscated; their lives declared forfeited; any man who befriended them did so at his own peril. These tidings produced excitement and alarm in Boston. The Puritans of the colony were all warmly inclined towards their endangered guests. Some would have protected them at all hazards; others felt inclined to help them to escape; a few thought it might be their duty to take them prisoners.