“Neebin,” answered the girl, whose eyes, from the moment of her entrance, had been scanning the company and the room in that quiet, covert way, in which the Indian is wont to gratify his curiosity while endeavoring to conceal it.  At the same time, if she felt fear, neither her voice nor manner betrayed it.

“Neebin!” repeated Winthrop.  “A very pretty name, and hath a pretty meaning in English, I doubt not.”

The child, encouraged by the gentleness of his voice and looks, and perhaps proud of showing her knowledge of the language of the whites, answered: 

“Neebin is summer.”

“Darling Neebin,” said Winthrop, whose countenance really expressed an interest in the little Indian, “hast ever been taught thy prayers?”

“Neebin knows two prayers.”

“Will she say them for me?”

The child crossed her arms upon her bosom, after having first made the sign of the cross upon her brow, her lips, and breast; and then, letting fall the long, black lashes of her eye-lids, commenced repeating the “pater-noster.”  At the sign of the cross, Dudley started; but, as if recollecting himself, sunk back with a groan.  After finishing the pater-noster, the little girl began the “Ave Maria;” but this was more than the scandalized deputy could endure.

“I may not,” he cried, starting up, “listen without sin to this idolatry.  Better to smite—­”

“I pray thee to have a little patience,” said Winthrop, interrupting him.  “None of its guilt attaches itself to us.”

“I know not that,” replied Dudley.  “I will not, like Naaman the Syrian, bow myself down in the house of Rimmon, even although my master leaneth on my hand.  I do bear my testimony against these popish incantations.”

The face of Winthrop flushed at the taunt conveyed, both in the manner and in the language; but, as his custom was, he paused before replying, which gave opportunity to Endicott to say: 

“My teeth, also, as well as those of Master Dudley, are set on edge; and I think that any farther inquiry on this branch of the subject may well be pretermitted.”

“In my judgment,” said Sir Richard Saltonstall, “it were well, inasmuch as, though not partaking to the degree of their delicacy of the scruples of the Deputy-Governor and of Master Endicott, yet do I respect them, considering the fountain whence they flow.  I also highly approve of and thank the Governor for his judicious questions, whereby the truth hath been brought to light, and what was a little dark before hath been made plain.  But the end being sufficiently attained, it were better, perhaps, not to press in this way after further knowledge, seeing we neither need nor desire it.”

“I accede to your wishes, gentlemen,” said Winthrop, “though I hardly approve of this cutting short the answer of a witness.  Ye shall have, however, your will.”

“What!” exclaimed Dudley; “not when the answer is blasphemous, or idolatrous, or otherwise impious?”