“My brother is an open hand, and will make Waqua’s wigwam as gay as the breast of the Gues-ques-kes-cha.”

With these words, the Indian followed Arundel into the street, walking in his tracks, and the two pursued their way in the direction of one of the principal store-houses.

The street led directly by the house of the Assistant Spikeman, and, as they passed, the eyes of the young man were busy, as was natural, to discover traces of his mistress.  Nor was he doomed to disappointment.  As he came opposite, a casement opened, a small white hand was thrust out, and beckoned to him.  Thus invited, Arundel stepped within the door, whither he was followed by the savage.  In those days, the simple forest children thought there was no harm in asking for a hospitality they were ever ready to grant themselves, and which they considered a duty; nor inasmuch as they never attempted to take away anything by violence, but thankfully accepted whatever was offered to them, were their visits generally discouraged.  Indeed, the importance of treating them with indulgence was sedulously inculcated by both elders and magistrates, as being conducive to their own security as well as from higher motives.  The expediency of such conduct was so obvious that few were found to disregard it.  Hence the Indians, on their visits to the settlement, were accustomed, if they wanted food, or to enter the houses for any other purpose, to step in with the same freedom almost as into their own wigwams.  If now and then a circumstance occurred inconsistent with the sacred duty of hospitality, it was not considered as reflecting disgrace upon the whole community, but only on the sordid churl who was the occasion of it, and whose domicile was ever afterwards carefully avoided.

The young man and his dusky companion were met by Prudence, who, while conducting them into a room, whispered: 

“Why, Master Miles, who expected to see you?  People said you was ever so far away in the woods, living with bears and wolves.  Have you got one here?”

“Poh, poh! pretty Prudence, no one hath better reason to look for me than thyself, seeing thy message brought me.  As for my copper friend, he is the gentlest savage that ever took a scalp.  Do not be frightened, and clap thy hand on thy head:  he will none of thine.  But thy mistress, where is she?”

“I declare, Master Miles, you have scared almost all the breath out of my body.  Oh! how my heart beats!  Follow me quick, for I want to get out of the way.”

“Waqua will wait for his brother here,” said the young man, turning to his follower, whose eyes he noticed were fastened on a full length portrait hanging on the wall; “for which reason,” he added “and, during my absence, may make acquaintance ith the venerable ancestor of Master Spikeman, who hath followed his descendant’s fortunes across the sea.”

He waited for no reply, such was his impatience to see his mistress; but, preceded by Prudence, hastily left the apartment, and was ushered into the presence of the young lady.