Other little facts came to light one by one.  They were all connected (as was natural in a savage) with some animal or other natural object.  Whatever impressions her morals or affections had received, had been erased by the long spiritual death of that forest sojourn; and Mrs. Leigh could not elicit from her a trace of feeling about her mother, or recollection of any early religious teaching.  This link, however, was supplied at last, and in this way.

Sir Richard had brought home an Indian with him from Virginia.  Of his original name I am not sure, but he was probably the “Wanchese” whose name occurs with that of “Manteo.”

This man was to be baptized in the church at Bideford by the name of Raleigh, his sponsors being most probably Raleigh himself, who may have been there on Virginian business, and Sir Richard Grenville.  All the notabilities of Bideford came, of course, to see the baptism of the first “Red man” whose foot had ever trodden British soil, and the mayor and corporation-men appeared in full robes, with maces and tipstaffs, to do honor to that first-fruits of the Gospel in the West.

Mrs. Leigh went, as a matter of course, and Ayacanora would needs go too.  She was very anxious to know what they were going to do with the “Carib.”

“To make him a Christian.”

“Why did they not make her one?”

Because she was one already.  They were sure that she had been christened as soon as she was born.  But she was not sure, and pouted a good deal at the chance of an “ugly red Carib” being better off than she was.  However, all assembled duly; the stately son of the forest, now transformed into a footman of Sir Richard’s, was standing at the font; the service was half performed when a heavy sigh, or rather groan, made all eyes turn, and Ayacanora sank fainting upon Mrs. Leigh’s bosom.

She was carried out, and to a neighboring house; and when she came to herself, told a strange story.  How, as she was standing there trying to recollect whether she too had ever been baptized, the church seemed to grow larger, the priest’s dress richer; the walls were covered with pictures, and above the altar, in jewelled robes, stood a lady, and in her arms a babe.  Soft music sounded in her ears; the air was full (on that she insisted much) of fragrant odor which filled the church like mist; and through it she saw not one, but many Indians, standing by the font; and a lady held her by the hand, and she was a little girl again.

And after, many questionings, so accurate was her recollection, not only of the scene, but of the building, that Yeo pronounced: 

“A christened woman she is, madam, if Popish christening is worth calling such, and has seen Indians christened too in the Cathedral Church at Quito, the inside whereof I know well enough, and too well, for I sat there three mortal hours in a San Benito, to hear a friar preach his false doctrines, not knowing whether I was to be burnt or not next day.”