And now the stranger, leisurely advancing, soon reached the little collection of houses.  Guiding his horse carefully through the unpaved streets, and avoiding the stumps of trees which were occasionally to be met, he stopped at a house of somewhat more imposing appearance than the rest.  It was of wood, like most of the other dwellings, and differed from them principally in being larger.  It could not be said to belong to any order or style of architecture, but bore a general resemblance to buildings erected in England at the time.  It stood with its gable-ends, three in number, to the street, the roof rising up steeply, and making a considerable garret, the side of the gable-ends projecting over the second story, as did also that over the first.  The windows were of a square form, with small diamond-shaped panes, opening by hinges at the sides, and there was but one entrance in front, to protect which a small verandah or porch was thrown across the building.  Two men, in the ordinary dress and equipments of soldiers of the period, their clumsy muskets leaning against the side, were seated on a bench near the entrance, and by their presence indicated the residence of Governor Winthrop.

“Is the right worshipful Governor at home so that he may be seen?” inquired the stranger, as he dismounted from the horse, whose bridle was held by one of the soldiers.

“He is at home, and may be seen, Sir Christopher,” replied one of the men, “I will conduct you to his presence.”

So saying, the soldier opened the door, and preceding the visitor, ushered him into a hall some ten feet wide, and thence into a small ante-room, or room of reception, where he was entreated to be seated, while his arrival should be announced.  It required but a moment, which was the whole time of the soldier’s absence, for the stranger to take a survey of the room wherein he sat.

It was not more than twelve or fifteen feet square, and destitute of paper or hangings, and the floor, like that of the hall, was bare, and made of coarsely-planed boards.  It had two doors, one opening into the hall and another into an adjoining room, and was lighted by a single window.  Its furniture consisted of only a few wooden chairs and benches.

“The right worshipful Governor directs me to invite you to him,” said the messenger, throwing open the second door above mentioned.

The stranger rose, and crossing with a stately step the ante-chamber, followed the soldier into the adjoining apartment.

“Welcome, Sir Christopher,” exclaimed the Governor, rising from a desk, at which he had been writing, and advancing with extended hand to his visitor, “I am honored in seeing you again in my poor house.”

“He may deem himself a minion of fortune,” courteously replied the stranger addressed as Sir Christopher, grasping the offered hand, “who either in this far wilderness or in the proud streets of London, is privileged to exchange salutations of friendship with so worthy and every way accomplished a gentleman as the honored chief magistrate of this colony.”