“I perceive that I have failed in my prayer, and can have no hope of your intercession, honored sir,” said Arundel, rising, “and will therefore take my sorrowful leave.”

“It pains me,” said Winthrop, also rising, “that, under present circumstances, I am compelled to deny it.  I may not do aught to contravene a resolution of the deceased Edmund Dunning, which seems to have been inspired by Heaven; but, the cause of that resolution being removed, no one will be happier to promote your purpose.  I say this the more cheerfully, because thy happiness is within reach, to be wisely seized or unwisely refused.”

“With thanks for your Excellency’s good will, and lamenting that it is fruitless, I will now depart.”

Hereupon, the young man making a sign to his companion, the Indian approached.  The sight of the latter seemed to suggest an idea to Winthrop, for, turning to him, he said: 

“On the morrow I expect an embassy from some of your countrymen, Waqua.  Will not the chief remain to witness it?”

On the quiet countenance of the Indian only an inquiry was to be read.

“The Taranteens,” said the Governor, in answer to the look, “desire to brighten the chain of friendship between the white men and themselves, and it ought to give pleasure to a wise chief to behold it.”

“Waqua is a young man,” replied the Indian, “and is not wise; but he has heard the old men of his tribe say, that no faith was to be placed in the word of a Taranteen.”

“Let them beware,” said Winthrop, who, from obvious motives of policy, adopted this tone in the Indian’s presence, “how they attempt to deceive me.  The friendship of the white man is like the blessed sun, which brings life and joy; his enmity, like the storm-clouds, charged with thunders and lightnings.”

“Listen!” said the Indian, laying his hand on the arm of the Governor.  “The beavers once desired the friendship of the skunk.  They admired his black and white hair, and thought his round, bushy tail, which was different from theirs, very beautiful; so they invited him into their lodges; but when he came, his scent was so bad that they were all obliged to abandon them.  The Taranteens are the skunk.”

“I have no fear that they will drive us away,” said Winthrop, with a smile.  “They have every reason to conciliate our favor, and we would be at peace, if we are permitted, with all men.  We came not into these far off regions to bring a sword, but the blessings of civilization and of the Gospel.”

“Waqua will come,” said the Indian, “but the Taranteens are a skunk.  The white chief will remember the words of Waqua, and will say, before many days, that he spoke the truth.”

“We know how to deal with the treacherous,” answered the Governor, “but anticipate no evil now.”

With these words, and, as if striving by extraordinary courtesy to palliate the pain which he had inflicted on Arundel, he accompanied the two to the door of the apartment, where he dismissed them.