Hour after hour passed away, but Waqua returned not; and Arundel began to fear that his companion had taken some offence, either at himself, or at what had occurred the evening previous. He ransacked his memory, for the purpose of discovering if he had said or done anything to which exception could be taken, or had omitted any courtesy or attention; but he could find nothing to reproach himself with. He was unable to believe that Waqua would steal away without formally taking leave, on account of any slight or impertinence from another, after the command of himself he had exhibited following the violence of Spikeman; and, finally, tried to avoid thinking of the subject, expecting that the truant would turn up at some time during the day, and explain his absence.
Meanwhile, it was understood that the expected deputation of the Taranteens had arrived, and been received at the house of the Governor. Armed men had been constantly coming into town; their wives and children, in some instances, accompanying them; until the settlement had become a scene of gay and animated confusion. The place fixed upon for the reception of the ambassadors (there being no building sufficiently large to contain the number present, and who were anxious to witness the ceremony) was an elevation near the village, commanding a view of the buildings, of the green rolling bay, and of the ships tossing on its waves. Here, under the shade of a patriarchal elm, spreading like an umbrella its immense and gracefully drooping branches over a wide extent of green turf, Winthrop was to give public audience to the dusky delegates.
The hour for the reception had nearly arrived, when Arundel strolled to the place appointed. He found it covered with a crowd of five or six hundred persons, including the women and children. The number of armed men might have been two-thirds of the whole. The women were gossipping together, and the children amusing themselves in sports becoming their age, while the soldiers were ranged in double files, extending from a large chair or kind of throne placed near the body of the tree, thus forming a lane, only by passing through which could access be had to it. The spot where the chair was placed was covered to some little distance around with scarlet cloth—the chair itself as representative of majesty, with cloth of gold—and on either side stood grimly a culverin or small cannon, capable of carrying a ball of seventeen or eighteen pounds in weight—silent, but eloquent orators, to convince of the ability of him who might occupy the seat to enforce his words. Other chairs, to the number of perhaps twenty, were ranged in a semi-circle on either side of the seat intended for Winthrop; while against the body of the tree were leaned partisans and halberds; and it was hung about on nails driven in for the occasion, with shining corslets, and swords, and daggers.