e us all, and Ester, too?"

"Who is Ester?"

She told him all, for she felt that in this mysterious man she had a
friend on whom she could rely. When she had finished, Sir Albert shook
his snowy locks and remarked:

"You would do well to keep this from the ears of Sir William, sweet
maid."

Then he went away into the forest. That evening, as he sat at the
roadside, not far from Jamestown, the wife of Hugh Price, who had been
to Greenspring, was returning home on her favorite saddle-horse. The
animal became frightened at some object by the roadside, and leaped
madly forward. The saddle turned and the woman would have fallen had not
Sir Albert rushed to her rescue.

He lifted her from the saddle, and, while the horse dashed madly away,
seated the rider safely at the roadside.

"Are you injured?" he asked the half-fainting woman.

"No."

"You are fortunate to escape so narrowly, madam. Do you live at
Jamestown?"

"I do, sir. You are Sir Albert of the _Despair_, are you not?" asked
Dorothe Price.

"I am."

"I have often heard of you. I thank you for your kind service, sir."

"Shall I see you home?"

"If not too much trouble."

As they walked along the road, he asked:

"Are you Mrs. Price?"

"I am."

"Mr. Hugh Price is your second husband?"

"He is."

"When did your first husband die?"

"Many years ago. He was lost at sea."

"Did he leave two children?"

"Yes, sir, two," she sighed, and the white-haired stranger; glancing at
her face, asked:

"Was he a good man?"

"Good man! Oh, sir, he was an angel of goodness; but, alas, I never
appreciated him, until he was gone. I oft recall that fatal morning when
he bade me farewell, when he kissed the baby and left a tear on her
cheek. I was happy then!" Tears were now trickling down her cheeks.

"Are you happy now?"

"Alas, no. I am miserable."

"Why?"

"My husband is an enemy to my son. Price is a royalist while Robert is a
Puritan and a republican."

"Is your son with Bacon?"

"He is, and Sir William would hang Robert if he could."

"He shall not hang him."

"If he captures him, who will prevent it?"

"I will." They parted at the door, and as the old man went down to his
boat, she gazed after him, murmuring:

"Heaven surely hath sent us a protector at last."

CHAPTER XXI.

BURNING OF JAMESTOWN.

"At every turn, Morena's dusky height
Sustains aloft the battery's iron load,
And, far as mortal eye can compass