“Ha!  Achilles, or Coeur de Lion from captivity,” or to fashion my speech more into the humor of this new world, “O, Daniel from the lion’s den, greatly doth my heart rejoice at thy deliverance.”  “Welcome, good Philip,” he added, in a more natural tone, betraying some sympathy, and taking him at the same time by the hand; “welcome to your friends.”

The tired soldier sank down upon a bench before he was able to speak.

“Thy tongue is dry, and moves slowly, and, now that I regard thee more closely, art pale.  We must cheer up thy drooping spirit”

“Having thus spoken, the young man entered the house, and presently returned with a flagon and drinking cups.

“Drink, man,” said Arundel, filling a cup with wine, “and wash all sorrow out of thine heart.  The suns that ripened the grapes out of which this juice was crushed, were bright and joyous.  May they impart their own happiness and vigor unto thee.”

The soldier put the cup to his lips, nor withdrew it until the contents were drained.

“I feel,” he said, “the good wine tingling through all my veins, and am a new man again.”

“Fill once more,” said the young man, suiting the action to the word; “one shower is not enough for so thirsty a soil.”

The soldier did not refuse, and having drank a second time, he felt refreshed.

“Pleasant enough quarters, Master Arundel,” he said, looking around; “and I see ye have some red-skins camped near by.”

“They are the knight’s particular friends, whose society it seems to be his sovereign pleasure to cultivate.  He has persuaded them to gather round him, forming what may be called his body-guard.”

“Or outposts of the main garrison.  Well, for runners or scouts they may answer, but for hand-to-hand action, they are naught.  But where is Sir Christopher?”

“He started on a hunt this morning, our larder having run low.  Hark!” he added, as suddenly the blast of a bugle was heard echoing through the forest, “that is the sound wherewith he is accustomed to announce his approach, and you will presently see him coming out of the wood.”

Sure enough, in a few moments the tall form of the knight, arrayed in a deer-skin hunting-shirt, with leggins of the same material, and “a piece” in his hand, was seen emerging into the open space.  He was followed by a couple of Indians, each of whom bore on his shoulders a deer.

“Quecheco,” the two white men heard him say, as he came out of the bushes, “carry thou thy deer to my lodge, and do thou, Pococke, divide thine with thy brother Quecheco.”  After speaking these words he advanced toward them.

“So, ho, Philip,” cried Sir Christopher, “again under my banner.  Fate hath decreed us I think for buenas camaradas, and for my part I heartily rejoice thereat.  A braver heart than thine never beat under steel corselet, or truer hand wielded a sharp sword.”