“Young sir,” said Dudley, “I have not seen thee for a long time.  How continues Master Arundel to like the new world?”

“Indifferently well,” replied Arundel.  “Of every land, new or old, something favorable may be said.”

“I observe thou dost hanker after the flesh pots of Egypt, and art lean in the midst of abundance.  It is because thou lackest those views of truth, and that sustaining faith which can make all trials welcome for their sake.”

“Methinks,” said the Knight, with a smile, “that the fair rosy cheeks, and rounded limbs of our young friend, indicate no want of the reasonable comforts of life.”

“I doubt not,” said the rough Dudley, without heeding the observation, “that to them who come hither through an idle curiosity, or for wanton pastime, or for purposes still more unworthy, this fair land possesses only temporary attractions; but for those who, with faith in the promises, have cast in their lot with the people of God, it is the land of promise.  Here from altars unpolluted by the abominations of Rome, and free from the besotted mimicry of the Church of England, so called, shall ascend hosannas from the Church and the armies of Israel.  Here, into the congregation, shall enter nothing that telleth a lie, or causeth to offend.”

He bowed formally, and involuntarily grasping with his left hand the sword that hung at his side, departed.

“Rude, unjust, fanatical, I had almost said blasphemous,” exclaimed the Knight, looking after him.  “Ungracious Dudley! success crown all thy plans, whereon the true church shall indeed set her seal, and confounded be the devices of her enemies.”

“Softly,” with no heightened color, with no elevation of the voice, with eyes turned up to heaven as if he were uttering a benediction, spoke Sir Christopher.  “And now, Master Arundel,” he inquired, taking the young man’s arm, “hast found Sassacus?”

Arundel did not hesitate, after the permission given by the Indian, which rightly seemed more like a request, to acquaint his friend with the adventures of the night.  Sir Christopher listened attentively, making no comment till the narrative was concluded.  He then said: 

“The mystery of the morning is explained.”  And now, in his turn, he related the discovery of the dead body and the indignation of the Indians, and pointed to their canoes fading in the distance.

“The circumstances,” he added, “in which we have obtained knowledge of the secret locks it per force in our breasts; and, besides, Sassacus is faultless, having only protected thy life and saved his own, which is an additional reason.  But, aside from these considerations, I see not how the disclosure could be attended with any advantage.  The chief hath not shown himself hostile, or done aught to make himself amenable to our jurisdiction.  Were the story to get wind, it could only excite more the revengeful feeling of the Taranteens and the ill-will of malignant spirits among us, who, through the Pequot, have been disappointed in expectations of trade.”