d but move to a
spot whence I may see the progress of his majesty and his greeting. Tell
the prince that he has my parole not to escape."

But neither the words nor the spirit of this chivalrous utterance were
familiar to Squanto, across whose red and yellow and oily countenance a
gleam of humor shot and was gone, while he gravely reported to
Quadequina,--

"The white man does but place himself to see the head men of his village
fall to the ground before Massasoit and his sachems. He trembles before
Quadequina and entreats his kindness."

"Hugh! I think thou liest, Squanto," sententiously replied the young
sachem. "I see no trembling in this warrior's face, nor do I believe his
people will fall down before Massasoit. Go, and see that thou dost speak
more truly in the sachem's presence, or he will hang thy scalp in his
wigwam to-night."

Squanto a little depressed at this suggestion, attempted no reply, but
hastened after the chief who already was nearing the brook, while from
the side of the town approached Standish, preceded by drum and fife and
followed by six musketeers. Arriving first at the dividing line the
captain halted his men, and summoning Squanto by name, bid him demand
that the twenty followers of the king should leave their bows, arrows,
and tomahawks where they now stood and come over unarmed, adding that
the importance of their hostage might well cover this further
concession. Massasoit after gazing for a moment into his opponent's face
conceded the point without parley, and at a sign from him the warriors
threw their weapons in a pile and followed him unarmed through the
shallow ford of the brook. Standish meantime deployed his men into guard
of honor so that the chief passed between two lines of men who presented
arms, and closing in behind him escorted him with drum and fife to the
unfinished house where he was seated in state at one end of the settle,
and his followers upon the cushions at the right hand of the Green Rug,
which may be said to have distinguished this meeting as the Cloth of
Gold, just a hundred years before, had that of the interview between
Henry VIII. and Francis I.

Hardly was the chief seated when the sonorous sounds of the trumpet,
well supported by the larger drum, replaced the shriller notes of fife
and small drum, and Governor Carver in full armor and wearing a plumed
hat, made his appearance, followed by six more musketeers, the two
guards exhausting pretty nearly the w