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CONCLUSION.

We must now, according to custom, give a glance
at some of our dramatis personæ, who were necessarily
behind the scenes at the fall of the curtain.

On hearing of the arrest of Fitzvassal, Morgan immediately
got the Duke of York under weigh, in
company with the Dolphin, and as there were no armed
vessels in port, they escaped, and were never
afterward heard of in America.

Grace Wilmer was soon after united to Seymour,
when she merged the romance of youth in the realities
of maturer years. If she sometimes looked back
with sadness, it was only to look forward again with
brighter anticipations. She had passed through few
trials, too few for the formation of a very perfect character;
but she had ever a high sense of duty, and for
her obedience to its dictates she was rewarded with
the blessings of tranquillity.

Mr. and Mistress Saultz continued at their old
stand, the former co-operating in sending folks out

of the world, and the latter in bringing them in,
while she always reiterated, to the day of her death,
that there was nothing wanting to make Boston a
perfect paradise, but a lying-in hospital. The boy
Willy finally became a Justice of the Peace. Harding
died at sea, over which he was passing for his
health, and Bill Grummet, who received his last
breath, became his legatee for a hundred pounds.
Mr. Temple died two years after the Revolution,
while Randal and Bagnal survived for a long time
to narrate the achievements of '89.

Sir Edmund Andros, with Randolph, conciliated
the good opinion of William and Mary, and the former
was afterward appointed Governor of Virginia.
As for the people of Massachusetts, William and
Mary approved of their conduct, and granted them a
new charter, containing many privileges, but reserving
to the crown the power of nominating their governor.

The body of the buccaneer was buried on Green
Island, which from that time changed its name, and
Nameoke, while she wept over the grave, prophesied
that the place would soon wash away. She never was
seen again at Nahant, but as vessels passed and repassed
the burial-place of Edward Fitzvassal on summer
moonlight nights, the sailors often declared that
they could hear sweet music from the island, and see
a female form weeping over the grave of the pirate.
Time passed away, and the island, according to tradition,

perceptibly crumbled into the sea, till in a few
years there was nothing to mark the spot but a rough
sunken ledge of rocks, where a monument now
stands to warn the mariner of the dangers of Nix's
Mate.