e his now greatly beloved
captive back to that part of the country where it was possible he might
gain intelligence of his friends, or, perhaps, even make his escape to
them. He had, therefore, consented to Coubitant's request, and
evidently felt an undefined satisfaction in his absence.
This being the case, and the departure of Coubitant having removed all
present danger to Henrich from his malicious schemes, Jyanough forbore
to express all he felt to the old Sachem; and he returned to Oriana
with the pleasant intelligence that the enemy of her white brother had
departed.
To the young Squaw-Sachem this news imparted infinite relief; and even
Henrich could not regret it, although he found it difficult to believe
that all the suspicions of his friends were well-founded. Still the
events of the preceding day were quite sufficient to make him doubt
more than ever the sincerity of Coubitant's professed regard; and he
felt that he should be happier now that the dark-browed savage was
gone. To his pleasant life of freedom we will now leave him, and return
to New Plymouth, where many events--deeply interesting to the
settlers--had occurred since his involuntary departure, and supposed
death.
CHAPTER XI.
'There went a dirge through the forest's gloom.
...An exile was borne to a lonely tomb,
"Brother;"--so the chant was sung
In the slumberer's native tongue--
"Friend and brother! not for thee
Shall the sound of weeping be."' HEMANS.
Sadly and slowly the Pilgrim Fathers passed along the scattered village
of log huts which was their home in their voluntary exile, and wound up
the pathway that led towards the summit of the mount, afterwards called
'the Burying Hill,' on which they had constructed a rude fort or
storehouse, and whither they were now bearing to his last earthly home
the chief and the most respected of their community. The Governor
Carver--he who had presided over their councils, and directed all their
movements since the memorable day of their landing, and had been the
friend, the physician, the comforter of his little flock, through all
their trials and all their sufferings--had fallen a victim to disease
and over-exertion, just as spring, with all its brighter hopes for the
future, had set in.
It was but a few days after Henrich's capture that this heavy
affliction befell the colony, and added greatly to the gloom which the
loss of young Maitland had already cast over the whole village. Th
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