CHAPTER XIX.
HOME.
A light fall of snow had clothed all Fairport in white, and whispered in the ears of lingering birds that they had better be off for the "sunny south," ere old winter had fairly begun his icy reign.

Cold and dark, the waters of the harbor lay encircled by the pure and glistening land.
Cheerful wood fires were warming many a hearth-stone, while wives and mothers thought of their absent ones on the sea, and hoped and prayed no chilling storm might be rending their sails and perilling the lives so precious to home and native land.
Mrs.Robertson had suffered from many anxious thoughts since the departure of her brave son.

But hers was not a timid or a repining spirit.

She knew that the same eye watched over him on sea as on land; and the almighty arm could protect him as well upon the deep waters, as in the shelter of his mother's fireside.
Fairport glasses had plainly seen the British colors mounted by the vessel which had borne away the young pilot.

The mother's heart throbbed as she mentally pictured the determined patriotism of her darling son.
Not merely a fancy and a picture that scene remained.
The two privateers which had given chase to the dismantled British vessel had an easy victory, and soon brought her triumphantly into Boston harbor.