urn to his vessel; but he did not.
Instead, he wandered over the hill into the wood and sat down upon a
log. Robert saw him sitting there, with his white head bowed between his
hands, looking so sad and broken-hearted, despite all his wealth, that
his heart went out to him. He was for hours thus communing with nature,
then came back to the town and went on board the _Despair_.

After that, he frequently came ashore and strolled about the town,
seldom speaking, even when addressed. But for the letters from the
governor and the king, he might have been arrested on suspicion. He came
and went at will, occasionally pausing to ask a question which was so
guarded, that no one could suspect that he was interested in any
particular subject. One day, as he was passing the statehouse, Giles
Peram, who, with the powdered wig, lace, and ruffles of a cavalier, was
strutting before some of the court officials, turning his eyes with an
ill-bred stare on the stranger as he passed, remarked:

"Oh, how extraordinary!"

Sir Albert paused and, fixing his great blue eyes on the diminutive
egotist, said:

"Marry! the time of king's fools hath past; yet the king of fools still
reigns."

Giles Peram felt the retort most keenly, and, as usual, raged and fumed
and swore vengeance after the stranger was out of sight and hearing. Sir
Albert strolled down to a pond or lake that was near to the town, on the
banks of which was an ancient ducking-stool. Three or four idlers were
sitting on the bank, and of one of them he asked:

"For what is that ugly machine used?"

"It is a ducking-stool for scolds," was the answer. The fellow, feeling
complimented at being addressed by the celebrated stranger, went on,
"Well do I remember, good sir, when and for whom the stool was
constructed."

"For whom was it built?" asked Sir Albert.

"It was made for Ann Linkon, who had slandered goodwife Stevens as was,
but who has, since her husband was drowned at sea, married Hugh Price,
the royalist and friend of the governor. Oh, how Ann did scold and rave,
and it was a merry sight to see her plunged beneath the water."

The stranger asked some questions about Ann Linkon and was informed that
she had died several years before. "But to the last," the narrator
resumed, "she hated Dorothe Stevens. She rejoiced when poverty assailed
her, brought on by her own extravagance, after her husband had gone
away. Then when goodwife Stevens received the fortune from the
g