“Sir Christopher Gardiner,” said Winthrop, “you have spoken boldly, and but that I believe in your honesty, and am assured of your friendship, I should be offended.  But you belong not to the congregation, your notions differing from our faith; the light which illuminates the minds of the chosen remnant which Providence hath planted in this far off land, this ultissima Thule, not yet having penetrated your understanding; Your freedom of speech, therefore, because in favor of mercy, shall not prejudice, though it might injure you were it to reach the ears of some of whom we wot.  But know, Sir Christopher, that your zeal makes you unjust, and that you have defamed a God fearing Commonwealth, and one in covenant with God.  Not without His guidance did we trust ourselves to a waging sea, calmed for our sake by His breath; and not without His inspiration are we building up a State, after His own divine model, which shall be the admiration of the world.  The kings of the earth may rise up, and the heathen rage, and the people imagine a vain thing; but know, Sir Christopher, that the gates of hell shall not prevail against us.”

As the usually calm Winthrop concluded his prophecy, he smote the table with his hand, as if to give emphasis to his words.

“My wise, and prudent, and most valued friend,” said Sir Christopher, rising and approaching the Governor, “pardon me, if with sacrilegious, though unwitting hand, I have touched the sacred ark of your faith.  But I were meaner than a stock or a stone; I were duller than an insensible clod; I were worse than an idolatrous heathen or a beast, if I were unwilling to encounter any danger, even to the hazard of losing your friendship, for the sake of a man, who, at the risk of his own life, saved mine.”

“I heard not of your debt before,” said Winthrop.

“It was in Moldavia, on the bloody field of Choczim, where the Poles defeated the Turks.  I was then but a stripling, and the impetuosity of youth, or the fiery temper of my horse, had borne me in advance of my friends, when I was surrounded by the infidels and hard bested, and my life beyond peradventure had paid the penalty of my rashness, and my bones been left cleaned by the wolf’s teeth to whiten on the sand, but for this valiant soldier.  Disregarding danger, he leaped among the foe, and so lustily plied his blows, that together we bore the turbans down, until his bridle-hand was struck.  Then was it time to fall back, for verily we had need of both hands, with the one to guide out horses, and with the other to defend our heads.  I seized his rein, and with our flashing swords, side by side, we fought our way through the throng.  Judge, then, if I were not an ingrate to forget the service.”

“It is a pity, for the sake of the prisoner,” said Winthrop, “that either Standish or Endicott is not in my place:  a tale of daring were sure to win their ears, and upon its recital, the cause were as good as gained; but much as I admire the valor of the soldier and respect your feelings, I, who was bred a lawyer, and not a warrior, see not therein a motive to grant your request.”