He went on to relate that, in 1659, two Quakers, named William Robinson
and Marmaduke Stephen-son, were hanged at Boston. A woman had been sen-
tenced to die with them, but was reprieved on condition of her leaving
the colony. Her name was Mary Dyer. In the year 1660 she returned to
Boston, although she knew death awaited her there; and, if Grandfather
had been correctly informed, an incident had then taken place which
connects her with our story. This Mary Dyer had entered the mint-
master's dwelling, clothed in sackcloth and ashes, and seated herself in
our great chair with a sort of dignity and state. Then she proceeded to
deliver what she called a message from Heaven, but in the midst of it
they dragged her to prison.

"And was she executed?" asked Laurence.

"She was," said Grandfather.

"Grandfather," cried Charley, clinching his fist, "I would have fought
for that poor Quaker woman!"

"Ah, but if a sword had been drawn for her," said Laurence, "it would
have taken away all the beauty of her death."

It seemed as if hardly any of the preceding stories had thrown such an
interest around Grandfather's chair as did the fact that the poor,
persecuted, wandering Quaker woman had rested in it for a moment. The
children were so much excited that Grandfather found it necessary to
bring his account of the persecution to a close.

"In 1660, the same year in which Mary Dyer was executed," said he,