town brought to their forest home some excellent books, with
bright, beautiful pictures. He was now nine years old, and could read
with some difficulty. One of his books was a story about a man being
wrecked on an island, and having saved a black man named Friday from
death by savages. Fernando never tired of this wonderful book, and, in
his eagerness for the adventures of Robinson Crusoe, learned to read
well without knowing it.

From reading one book, he came to read others, and lofty, ambitious
thoughts took possession of his soul. His mind, uncontaminated or
dwarfed by the sins of civilization, early began to reach out for high
and noble ideas.

His father had been a captain in the continental army, and had travelled
all over the Atlantic States during the war for independence. He told
his children many stories of those dark days and sought early to instil
in their young minds a love for their country, urging them ever to
sustain its honor and its flag.

Fernando Stevens, even early in childhood, became a patriot. He could be
nothing more nor less than a patriot and lover of freedom with such
training, and growing up in such an atmosphere. With the bitter wrongs
of George III. rankling in his heart, he came to despise all forms of
monarchy, and to hate "redcoats." The cruelties of Cornwallis, Tarleton,
Rawdon, Tryon and Butler were still in the minds of the people, and the
boy, as he gazed on his father's sword hanging on the cabin wall, often
declared he would some day take it and avenge the wrongs done in
years gone by.

Years passed on, and Fernando, in his quiet home in the West, grew to be
a strong, healthy lad, with a constantly expanding mind.

CHAPTER II.

MORGIANNA.

It was early on the morning of June 13, 1796, just twenty years after
the Declaration of Independence, that Captain Felix Lane, of the good
ship _Ocean Star_, was on his voyage from Rio to Baltimore with a cargo
of coffee. The morning was specially bright, and the captain, as brave a
man as ever paced a quarter deck, was in the best of spirits, for he
expected soon to be home. He had no wife and children to greet him on
his return, for Lane was a bachelor. He had served on board a privateer
during the War of the Revolution and had done as much damage as any man
on salt water to English merchantmen. Like most brave men, Captain Lane
had a generous soul, a kind heart, and there was not a man aboard his
vessel who would not have