"
Uncas pointed with ironical coldness to his captive, as he said--
"Let Conanchet speak!"
"Thou nearest, Narragansett. If the man I begin to suspect thee to be,
thou knowest something of the usages of the whites. Speak; wilt swear to
keep peace with the Mohegans, and to bury the hatchet in the path between
your villages?"
"The fire that burnt the lodges of my people turned the heart of Conanchet
to stone," was the steady answer.
"Then can I do no more than see the treaty respected," returned Dudley, in
disappointment. "Thou hast thy nature, and it will have way. The Lord have
mercy on thee, Indian, and render thee such judgment as is meet for one of
savage opportunities."
He made a gesture to Uncas that he had done, and fell back a few paces
from the tree, his honest features expressing all his concern, while his
eye did not refuse to do its duty by closely watching each movement of the
adverse parties. At the same instant, the grim attendants of the Mohegan
chief, in obedience to a sign, took their stations on each side of the
captive.
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