"With thanks for your Excellency's good will, and lamenting that it is
fruitless, I will now depart."

Hereupon, the young man making a sign to his companion, the Indian
approached. The sight of the latter seemed to suggest an idea to
Winthrop, for, turning to him, he said:

"On the morrow I expect an embassy from some of your countrymen,
Waqua. Will not the chief remain to witness it?"

On the quiet countenance of the Indian only an inquiry was to be read.

"The Taranteens," said the Governor, in answer to the look, "desire to
brighten the chain of friendship between the white men and themselves,
and it ought to give pleasure to a wise chief to behold it."

"Waqua is a young man," replied the Indian, "and is not wise; but he
has heard the old men of his tribe say, that no faith was to be placed
in the word of a Taranteen."

"Let them beware," said Winthrop, who, from obvious motives of policy,
adopted this tone in the Indian's presence, "how they attempt to
deceive me. The friendship of the white man is like the blessed sun,
which brings life and joy; his enmity, like the storm-clouds, charged
with thunders and lightnings."

"Listen!" said the Indian, laying his hand on the arm of the Governor.
"The beavers once desired the friendship of the skunk. They admired
his black and white hair, and thought his round, bushy tail, which was
different from theirs, very beautiful; so they invited him into their
lodges; but when he came, his scent was so bad that they were all
obliged to abandon them. The Taranteens are the skunk."

"I have no fear that they will drive us away," said Winthrop, with a
smile. "They have every reason to conciliate our favor, and we would
be at peace, if we are permitted, with all men. We came not into these
far off regions to bring a sword, but the blessings of civilization
and of the Gospel."

"Waqua will come," said the Indian, "but the Taranteens are a skunk.
The white chief will remember the words of Waqua, and will say, before
many days, that he spoke the truth."

"We know how to deal with the treacherous," answered the Governor,
"but anticipate no evil now."

With these words, and, as if striving by extraordinary courtesy to
palliate the pain which he had inflicted on Arundel, he accompanied
the two to the door of the apartment, where he dismissed them.

CHAPTER XI.

Oh! he sits high in all the people's hearts.

SHAKESPEARE.

It was evident that, so far from anyth