t the
village, and Charles proceeded to tell him all, in as few words as
possible, of the arrest, trial and execution of Goody Nurse and others.
When he had completed the terrible story, the young chief drew his
blanket about his shoulders and said:

"I am your friend, and if your white brothers prove false, remember your
red brother will be true."

"I believe you, Oracus."

"I have shown one white brother through the paths, away from his
enemies, and you will always find Oracus in his forest home ready to
befriend you."

"The time may come when I will need your aid," said Charles Stevens.

After a long interview, he rose and started home. He was near the great
bridge which spanned the brook, when he suddenly came upon a tall,
powerful man, whose sallow face and cavalier-like manner showed him to
be a citizen of the southern colonies. Charles instantly recognized him
as Mr. Joel Martin, the man whom he had seen on that night with Mr.
Parris, Bly and Louder, coming to arrest Cora's father.

"You are Charles Stevens?" the Virginian said, halting before the youth.

"I have no desire to deny my name, for it is that of an honest man; I am
Charles Stevens," he answered.

"Do you know who I am?"

"I suspect you are one whom I saw at my house, though your name I have
not learned."

"I am Joel Martin, and by profession an overseer on a Virginia
plantation. There were but two of us, my brother and I. He was an
overseer of an adjoining plantation, when one day a slave escaped. He
pursued him and was slain."

"I have heard the story," interrupted Charles.

"You have? and from his own lips?"

"I have; and I do not blame the man who was seeking liberty. He was a
white man, as you yourself are. He had committed no crime, save that he
was arrested as one of Monmouth's insurgents and had been captured while
in the ranks of the rebel."

Martin's eyes flashed with fury and, in a voice that was hoarse, he
whispered:

"You aided him to escape; but it shall not avail. I have for years
followed on his trail, and I will not let go my hold on him, until I
have dragged him to the scaffold. No; the blood of my brother cries out
for vengeance, and I will follow him day and night through the trackless
forests, until I have brought the renegade to justice. He cannot conceal
himself so deep in the forest, he cannot hide himself among the savage
tribes, nor burrow so deep in the earth, but that I will find him."

Charles Stevens