his bride in the bloom of a beautiful
maidenhood; where Ruth had come to them as the blessing of God to make
the house resound with prattle and laughter, and fill it with the
sunlight of her presence; make it attractive by her grace and
beauty,--the soul beauty that looked out from loving eyes and became,
as it were, a benediction. He was to go, she to stay. God above would
be her guardian.

Mrs. Newville walked as in a daze from parlor to chamber, from
dining-room to hall and kitchen. Was she awake or dreaming? Must she
leave her home,--the home that had been so blissful, so hospitable?
Was she never again to welcome a guest to that table, never hear the
merry chatter of voices in parlor or garden? Oh, if Sam Adams and John
Hancock had only been content to let things go on as they always had
gone! If Ruth had only accepted Lord Upperton's suit! Why couldn't
she? What ought she to take, what would she most need? What sort of
accommodations would they find at Halifax? Why couldn't Ruth go with
them? It was the questioning of a mind stunned by the sudden stroke;
of a spirit all but crushed by the terrible calamity.

"I have put in everything I could think of that will in any way make
you comfortable, mother dear," said Ruth, mentioning the articles.

"I've put up some jelly and jam for ye, missus," said Phillis.

Berinthia Brandon and Abraham Duncan came to bid them farewell, and to
help Ruth prepare for their departure.

It was Ruth's strong arm that upheld her mother as they slowly walked
the street on their way to the ship. It was a mournful spectacle. Not
they alone, but Mr. Shrimpton and Mary, Nathaniel Coffin and wife and
John, and a hundred of Ruth's acquaintances were on the wharf
preparing to go on board the ships.

"This is what has come from Sam Adams's meddling," said Mr. Shrimpton.
"May the Devil take him and John Hancock. They ought to be hanged, and
I hope King George will yet have a chance to string 'em up--curse 'em!
I'd like to see 'em dangling from the gibbet, and the crows picking
their bones," he said, smiting his fists together, walking to and fro.

He was bidding farewell to home,--to the house in which he was born.
He had farms in the county, wide reaches of woodland, fields, and
pastures. The provincials would confiscate them. In his declining
years all his property was to slip through his fingers, and he was to
totter in penury to his grave.

"I shall enlist in the service of the king an