After remaining at Halifax for five months, an opportunity offered for Captain Godfrey to leave for England.  He sailed with his wife and family in the brigantine “Adamante,” William Macniel, master, on the twentieth day of December, 1771.  Paul Guidon remained at Halifax about six weeks after he had arrived with the Godfreys.  While at Halifax he was much admired by the officers of the army, and those of the navy paid him even greater attentions.  Margaret had circulated the report that the Indian was of the Iroquois tribe, and as brave a man as ever drew a bow.  He wanted for nothing.  He was dined and wined by the citizens generally.

The Governor took a deep interest in him, and secured a vast amount of information from him respecting the character and movements of the Indians on the St. John.  One of the officers of the navy presented him with a complete suit of navy-blue clothes, and an officer of the garrison fitted him out with a second-hand undress military suit.

In his blue suit his appearance was most commanding.  It suited his complexion to a charm.  He was straight as an arrow, and looked as graceful as an elm.  His frame was wiry; his limbs long and straight.  He would bound over the rails of the ships like a deer.  His step was long, quick and elastic, and he would run like a greyhound.  His long black hair, reaching down to his slender waist, seemed to make his broad square shoulders doubly broad as it hung over his blue coat.  But the Indian, while he appeared to enjoy his new mode of life, was not always happy or at ease.  A sudden expression of sadness would often flit across his features.  He would roam for hours all alone in the woods.  He often longed for his canoe, which was washed overboard in the mouth of the Bay of Fundy.  He would often inquire of Captain Godfrey when he would get back to his home on the St. John.

The time at last arrived when Paul Guidon was to depart.  The King’s schooner was soon to sail for Passmaquaddy.  Captain Godfrey, his wife and children went on board the schooner to bid Paul farewell.  They found it hard to do so, especially Mrs. Godfrey.  Paul Guidon had no idea that he was to be separated from the family he loved.  He thought they were going to return to the St. John soon again.

As the Godfreys left the side of the King’s schooner to return to the shore, the “Young Lion of the Woods,” (for such was the name given to the Iroquois by the naval officers at Halifax) would not let go of Mrs. Godfrey’s hand.  He gently pulled her back and said, “I may never see you again, I want to speak to you alone.”  They went into the cabin, and there the Indian poured out the agonies of his soul.  He spoke to Margaret as follows (the words are given as he spoke them):  “You ’member evening Fort Frederick when pale face man ’way, me, Paul, saved your life and children too? when Indians threw tomahawk, and fired arrows at you? when you come out Fort, and one arrow struck you in arm?” Mrs. Godfrey replied: