we have been received and treated with all
courtesy."

"A gentler race of wild chivalry," said the young man, "doth surely
nowhere exist. Their free and careless lives make me more than ever in
love with nature, and long shall I remember the noble Taranteens with
pleasure."

"Admired you them enough to cast in your lot with them," said the
Knight, with a smile, "I doubt not that you might become a king over
regions as extensive as those which owe allegiance to the sceptre of
our gracious monarch, Charles."

"My admiration soars not to that height; yet, to my imagination, is
there something delightful in the condition of these children of
nature, thoughtful only of to-day, and careless of tomorrow, when
compared with that of the painful delvers of civilization. The former
are birds flying freely in the air; the latter, poultry scratching in
a barn-yard."

Sir Christopher laughed good naturedly at the sally of his friend.
"Verily," he said, "were it not for thy mistress, I do believe thou
hadst remained amongst the Taranteens. Unfortunate for them is it that
civilization has an ally in love. Were this life all," he added,
gravely, his whole manner changing, "there were some reason in what
you say. It were wisdom, then, to sport like insects in sunbeams--to
sink at night into dreamless sleep. But such is not man's destiny.
What infinite concernments hang on the present moment! How imperative
and urgent is our duty to wean these poor heathen from their wild ways
and false creed, that they may be rescued from the intolerable
perdition that awaits all who are not of Holy Church."

"It surely is a lamentable future for the poor creatures," said the
young man; "and yet I suppose it must be so, because the learned of
all creeds, which call themselves Christian, do agree therein. Ah, me!
poor Sassacus!"

"I opine," said the gentle Knight, "that the flames of hell will be
tempered to such poor wretches, in consideration of their ignorance."

"It is horrible to think of," said Arundel, shuddering; and, as if
desirous to change the subject, he inquired, "May I ask, without
offence, after the country of Sassacus?"

"Assuredly you may. It is some hundred miles to the south of
Boston--the principal villages of the Pequots being on a river of the
same name, and on a lesser stream called the Mystic, and along the
reverberating shores of the Atlantic. It is a pleasant land of bright
waters, and fair valleys, and towering hills,