Master Prout’s demure features ventured as near to a smile at the jest, as his principles would permit, and then approaching the woman, he unfastened the stocks, and allowed her to withdraw the imprisoned members.

“Good woman,” he said, “thank this noble Knight for thy deliverance, and may this be the last time that these wooden bars shall contract a friendship for thee.”

So spoke Master Prout, with a twinkle of the eye at the Knight, on account of the good thing which he fancied he had said, and the woman lost no time in extricating herself from durance.  Her face was crimsoned with blushes; she dropped a curtsey to the Knight, and hurried off with her husband.

“Master Prout,” said the Knight, as he turned away, “accept my thanks for the courtesy, and believe me that thou hast made me so much thy friend, thou hast only to express a wish, and if it is in my power it shall be granted.”

On arriving at the inn, Sir Christopher ordered immediately his horse, and mounting, rode homeward.  At a slow pace he proceeded through the streets, and allowed the animal, with the rein lying loose upon his neck, to follow the winding path in the forest.  No adventure befel him on his solitary ride, and in due time he reached his home.  He was met by Philip Joy, to whom he delivered the horse.

“Is the Indian whom I left in thy charge safe?” he inquired.

“He is, Sir Christopher,” answered the soldier.

“Sassacus has not seen him, I trust.”

“No one has seen him but myself.  I have faithfully followed your orders, and kept him like a rat in a trap.  He takes to eating and sleeping prodigious kindly, and has shown no disposition to do any thing else.”

“It is natural he should do so, and you have acted with discretion.”

With these words Sir Christopher entered the house, and straightway proceeded to find the Indian.  He was lying on the floor, apparently asleep, but at the noise of the opening door, roused himself and sat upright.

“How have my people treated Mesandowit in my absence?” inquired the Knight.

“Well,” answered the savage.  “Mesandowit has eaten, and drank, and slept, and is refreshed.”

“Is he ready to return to his own country?”

“Mesandowit is ready.”

“When the trees cast long shadows he shall return, and I will go a little distance with him, lest he should meet the Aberginians.”

“Good—­and now Mesandowit will sleep.”  He stretched himself again upon the skin, which served for a couch, probably not entirely rested after the long and rapid journey he had made, and disposed himself to slumber.  The Knight, on leaving him, went to the door of the lady’s apartment, and gently rapped.

It was opened by the Indian girl, and he was immediately admitted.

“Celestina,” said the Knight, looking first at her and then at her little attendant, “I have something to say to thee.”