The departure of Coubitant and his savage band, after their cruel design against the peace of Rodolph’s family had been accomplished, removed all fears of injury or molestation from the minds of the settlers; for no hostile Indians now remained in their immediate neighborhood, and the path from New Plymouth to the village of the friendly Wampanoges became a beaten and frequented track; so that Edith and her little charge could go to and fro in safety, under the protection of Fingal, a magnificent dog belonging to their father, and their constant companion and playfellow; and frequently they were accompanied, on their return to the British village, by the Chieftain’s wife, Apannow, and her little boy, Nepea, who was the darling of both Edith and Ludovico.

A strong attachment also sprang up between Apannow and Helen; for the Squaw-Sachem was possessed of much natural gentleness of disposition, and was most ready to adopt all those habits of civilized life that she saw practiced among her English friends, and that it was possible for her to transplant to her Indian home.  She was, likewise, willing to listen to the doctrines and precepts of the Gospel, and to admit their beauty and their holiness, although it was long—­very long—­ere she, or any of the adults of her tribe, were so far converted to the Christian truth as to be either desirous or fit to be baptized.  But there was no bigotry or opposition in the mind of Apannow; and she became a kind and sympathizing friend to Helen and to her children.

Rodolph was necessarily much engaged in agricultural occupations, and also in the business of the government, as he was one of the council who were appointed to assist the President, and to share the labors and responsibilities of his frequently very difficult office.  The gradual change in little Ludovico’s health was, therefore, not so soon observed by his father as by Helen and Edith; and when he returned to his much-loved home after the toils and cares of the day, his wife forbore to arouse fresh anxiety in his breast, by telling him of her own fears.  On the contrary, she rejoiced to see the pleasure and animation that lighted up the sweet child’s expressive countenance, as he ran to meet his father, and the happiness of both as they played under the wide-spreading trees that shaded their now luxuriant garden.  At such times, while listening to Ludovico’s ringing laugh, and watching his light footsteps as he chased his father and Edith from tree to tree, she flattered herself that all must be well with the joyous child, and that her apprehensions were unfounded.  But, again, when the following day found him pale and exhausted, and all the more so for the excitement and exercise of the previous evening, these foreboding fears would return, and her heart would sink heavily at the prospect of the coming woe.