The days that Henrich passed in the home of his childhood flew rapidly away.  All his old friends gathered around him to welcome him on his unexpected return, and to offer their congratulations to his happy parents and sister.  The joy of the venerable Brewster at again beholding his young friend and pupil, and at finding him still a sincere and intelligent Christian, was very great; and even among those who had never known him, his adventurous story, and his frank and engaging manners, excited the deepest interest.  Between himself and his brother-in-law, Roger Williams, a strong and lasting friendship was established; and when the time arrived for Henrich to return to Paomet, Roger proposed to accompany him, and assist in escorting his wife and child to pay their promised visit to New Plymouth.  This offer was gladly accepted; and the English minister and the Indian Chief set out on foot.  The journey was comparatively easy to men who had long been accustomed to such toils and difficulties as both Henrich and Roger had, for years, been inured to, and they reached Paomet very quickly.

But sorrow met them there.  The first sound that fell on their ears as they approached the village was the Indian dirge for a departing soul.  Henrich listened for a moment to catch the exact direction from whence the ominous sound proceeded, and then darted forward with such velocity, that Roger, active as he was, could with difficulty follow him.  Henrich hastened towards a large dwelling at the upper end of the village; and entering the low door, he beheld a sight which, though it filled his heart with unaffected grief, was yet, in some sense, a relief to his fears.

It was not for his wife or child that the wail was being made.  It was Tisquantum who lay on the bed of death, and who turned his dim and sunken eyes towards him as he passed the threshold.  The old man smiled a joyful welcome, and held out his trembling hand to greet him.  And Oriana—­who was seated on the ground by her father’s bedside, in an attitude of deep and silent sorrow—­sprang to her feet with a cry of joy, and throwing herself into her husband’s arms, burst into a flood of long-suppressed tears.

‘You are come at lest,’ she exclaimed.  ’You are come in time to see my father die, and to receive his blessing.  O, Henrich! how I have hoped end preyed for your return.  I feared you would be too late; and my beloved father has something to confide to you—­I know he has—­which will fill your soul with joy.  Father,’ she continued, in a calmer voice, as she led Henrich to his side, and joined their hands in her own—­’ Father, say those blessed words again.  Tell your son that you believe and love the Christian’s God, and that you desire to die in this faith.’

Henrich was surprised.  He had not hoped that Tisquantum had been thus far influenced by what he had seen and heard of the Christian religion, and his joy was equal to his astonishment.