The Sachem was himself an Indian, and he well knew the Indian desire for retaliation and vengeance.  He was, indeed, a man of a mild and generous nature, and he belonged to a tribe less distinguished by cruelty than the Nausetts.  But still he felt that, according to the savage code of the natives, blood must atone for blood, and he believed that already the life of Henrich had probably been sacrificed in expiation of his father’s having slain the son of the Nausett Chief.  Still he led his warriors on, and neither paused nor spoke until the party emerged from the thick wood, upon a little opening that was lighted up brilliantly by the moon-beams.  Here, where it was evident a small temporary encampment had existed, and had only been very recently and hastily removed, he stopped, and looked earnestly around.  The poles still stood erect which lied supported the tents of the Nausetts; the fires were still burning; and many articles of domestic use lay scattered about, which the hasty departure of the inhabitants had probably prevented their removing.

Rudolph hurried through the camp in search of some sign of his son; and his eager eye fell on the well-known tunic that Henrich was accustomed to wear.  He snatched it up hastily; and then, with a deep groan, let it fall again upon the ground.  The breast of the tunic was pierced through in several places, and the whole dress was stained with blood—­blood that was newly shed.

Maitland pointed to this evidence of his son’s death! and when the Sachem had examined it, he set his teeth together, and drew in his breath with an oppressed, hissing sound, as of severe pain.

‘It is over, my friend,’ he said, in a low deep voice to Rodolph—­’it is over; and we are too late.  Naught now remains but to take revenge—­ full, ample revenge.  Let us follow the miscreants.’

Rudolph turned, and looked at him.  He fixed on him such a searching gaze—­a gaze so full of gentle reproof and of deep settled grief-that the warm-hearted Chief stood silent, and almost abashed before his Christian friend.

‘Is it thus you have learned of Brewster?’ said the sorrowing father.  ’Is it thus that you are taught in that book which the Great Spirit has dictated?  The Father of us all has declared, “vengeance is mine; I will repay “; and since we are too late to save my son, we will not commit deeds of blood which his now happy and ransomed spirit would abhor.’

Mooanam was silenced, but not convinced.  Inwardly he vowed vengeance against those who had dealt so cruelly with the unoffending boy; though, under similar circumstances, he would probably have acted with the same spirit.  But the Chief bad allied himself with the white men.  He loved and reverenced them; and he was resolved to avenge the wrongs of Maitland, as if they had been his own.

Sadly and silently the party returned to the Indian village, where they arrived at the break of day.  We will not attempt to describe the mother’s anguish when she was made acquainted with the dreaded fate of her son; but Helen was a Christian, and while her heart was bowed down with crushing grief, her spirit strove to hush its rebellious questionings, and to submit itself to the will of God.