Perceiving that he had demanded more than
would be answered, the stranger changed his mode of investigation, masking
his inquiries with a little more of artifice.
"It may not be that a great tribe is on the bloody path!" he said;
"warriors would have walked over the timbers of the palisadoes, like
bending reeds! 'Tis a Pequot who hath broken faith with a Christian, and
who is now abroad, prowling as a wolf in the night."
A sudden and wild expression gleamed over the swarthy features of the
boy. His lips moved, and the words that issued from between them were
uttered in the tones of biting scorn. Still he rather muttered than
pronounced aloud--
"The Pequot is a dog!"
"It is as I had thought; the knaves are out of their villages, that the
Yengeese may feed their squaws. But a Narragansett, or a Wampanoag, is a
man; he scorns to lurk in the darkness. When he comes, the sun will light
his path. The Pequot steals in silence, for he fears that the warriors
will hear his tread."
It was not easy to detect any evidence that the captive listened, either
to the commendation or the censure, with answering sympathy; for marble is
not colder that were the muscles of his unmoved countenance.
Pages:
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274