The minister closed his Bible; and the whole group crowded closer
together. "It is surely a war party of the heathen," said Mr. Ward, as
he listened intently to the approaching sound. "God grant they mean us
no evil!"

The sounds drew nearer. The swarthy figure of an Indian came gliding
through the brush-wood into the clearing, followed closely by several
Englishmen. In answer to the eager inquiries of Mr. Ward, Captain
Eaton, the leader of the party, stated that he had left Boston at
the command of Governor Winthrop, to secure and disarm the sachem,
Passaconaway, who was suspected of hostile intentions towards the
whites. They had missed of the old chief, but had captured his son,
and were taking him to the governor as a hostage for the good faith of
his father. He then proceeded to inform Mr. Ward, that letters had been
received from the governor of the settlements of Good Hoop and Piquag,
in Connecticut, giving timely warning of a most diabolical plot of the
Indians to cut off their white neighbors, root and branch. He pointed
out to the notice of the minister a member of his party as one of the
messengers who had brought this alarming intelligence.

He was a tall, lean man, with straight, lank, sandy hair, cut evenly all
around his narrow forehead, and hanging down so as to remind one of
Smollett's apt similitude of "a pound of candles."

"What news do you bring us of the savages?" inquired Mr. Ward.

"The people have sinned, and the heathen are the instruments whereby the
Lord hath willed to chastise them," said the messenger, with that
peculiar nasal inflection of voice, so characteristic of the "unco'