prisoner had been introduced, it was superior in comfort, as was,
indeed, to be expected, being that of the Sagamore himself. Here he
found the soldier, Philip Joy.

"What means this, Sassacus?" exclaimed the soldier, as the Pequot
entered. "Was it not our covenant that the life of the white man
should be spared?"

"My brother did not mean what he said when he asked that his enemy
might be permitted to run away. Who, when he catches a wolf, says,
'Wolf, Indian set the trap only to see whether it would hold fast your
legs. The wise hunter talks not so, but strikes the wolf on the
head.'"

"Sassacus," said Joy, "this may not be. If you had caught Master
Spikeman, by your own cunning, it might have been different; but it
was the white girl and I who devised the scheme, and I told you where
to place the ambuscade, which has been successful. Were you to murder
this man, the guilt would rest more on Prudence and me than on you,
whose savage and un-Christian notions may partly excuse so dreadful an
act."

"My brother's heart is soft, like moss, but the heart of Sassacus is a
stone. My brother must learn to harden his heart, and he shall soon
behold a punishment becoming a great Sagamore. My brother thinks and
feels like a Christian. Good! but he must let Sassacus feel like an
Indian."

"Let him go," said Joy, "and he shall pay you store of wampompeag and
colored cloth. Of what use can it be to you to put him to a horrid