“I deny not the force of thine argument,” replied the knight, “and yet have I remarked an omnipotence in truth, that doth make me insist on having recourse to Governor Winthrop.  As is the God-like sun, animating and vivifying all things, searching into dark recesses and driving out bats and impure vermin by his intolerable presence, and unveiling ugliness and hatefulness, so is Truth.  Withersoever she turns her shining mirror there Error may not abide, but like a dastardly coward, flies from the glory.  Believe, Master Arundel, that He who is uncreated, Truth will magnify that wherein He delights.”

“To pleasure thee, Sir Christopher, there is nothing which I would not undertake, convinced though I am of its inefficacy.”

“So please you then, represent your grievance in the highest quarter, before you further proceed.  And now, I propose to present Philip to Lady Geraldine, if her leisure serve.  You will accompany us.”

Passing through a vestibule, which separated the two rooms, the knight threw open a door, and admitted them into an apartment of smaller dimensions than the first, but fitted up with far more regard to comfort, and with even some pretension to elegance.  The floor was covered with matting made by the Indian women, on which strange figures were drawn, stained with brilliant dyes; the sides of the room also were hung with matting, over which fell folds of scarlet cloth reaching to within a couple of feet of the floor, imparting an air of gayety, while overhead was tightly drawn and fastened to the rafters a light blue cloth, approaching in color the hue of the sky.  Some chairs were scattered around, and on a table lay a guitar, on the top of a book.  No person was in the apartment at the moment of their entrance, and, upon the invitation of the knight, they took seats to await the arrival of the lady.

They had been seated but a short time when another door opened, and a comely gentlewoman entered, ushered by a little Indian girl.  The age of the lady appeared to be about the same as that of the knight, and, to judge from her complexion, she was not of English extraction.  Her features, though not regular, were handsome; the eyes large and black, with hair of the same color, confined by a white cap; her figure was tall and slender, and her carriage dignified and noble.  Her dress consisted merely of a black gown, without ornament, and rising high into the neck, and as she approached she looked like one oppressed with sadness.

Her little swarthy attendant seemed to be a pet which she took delight in adorning, and truly, the little girl was not unconscious that her childish beauty was enhanced by richness of attire.  A crimson satin tunic, like a basque, was fastened around her waist by a golden band, beneath which fell a blue silk skirt as far as the knees, while high upon the ankles were laced deer-skin buskins, profusely bedecked with shining beads and colored porcupine quills.  Around her arms, above the elbows, were strings of colored beads, her wrists were clasped by bracelets of the same description, and about her neck was twined a gold chain.