"Had thou not best return to the wigwam, Joane, and to the Squaw Sachem?" inquired Anne, pausing as she was about to leave the room. "What go for?" the girl demanded, while her eyes flashed with fierce intensity. "No good go--can fight here--fight good, too. Joane stay and fight by English Chief and his 'Singing Bird,'"--this being the name given by the Naumkegs to Anne, on account of her musical voice. Knowing that nothing would turn Joane when once her ideas were fixed, and knowing too that her skill with the bow and gun was equal to that of any warrior, Anne was silent,--grateful indeed for any addition to the slender force at hand for defence. There were in all but nine men, servants and laborers,--two of them white, and the others either Africans or Indians; but they were all, saving old Noah, young, stalwart, and fearless. John Devereux posted these men in the outbuildings and sheds, as cattle were generally the spoil sought by the marauders when they visited the coast. And when assigning them their positions, he warned them, should they find themselves in danger of being overpowered, to give a signal and retreat to the house, where a side-door would be opened for their entrance. Then, having left with them a plentiful supply of ammunition, he went within to mount guard over his wife and babies. He had five guns wherewith to arm his household, without counting his own piece, and every woman in his service was acquainted with their use. Even Anne herself had, under his own tuition, become no mean markswoman. Within doors he found the women greatly excited, and fluttering about aimlessly; but a few quiet words soon brought order amongst them, and with it a return of their courage. Then, having accomplished this, he went once more through the house, from the rooms downstairs to the low-ceilinged sleeping apartments above, and satisfied himself that all was secure. In the nursery he found his wife looking at the little boys, who were lying on two great bags of ticking, stuffed with the feathers of wild geese, and placed on the floor, in lieu of bedsteads. They were sleeping soundly, oblivious of the alarm about the house; and standing beside his wife, his arm around her waist, John Devereux looked down at them. On one of the pallets lay Humphrey, his strong young arms outstretched, and his chest--broad for his years, and finely developed---showing white as alabaster where the simple linen garment was rarely buttoned by his impatient fingers. On the other were the two younger boys; and Robert, the gentlest of the three, with his father's own winsome nature, lay with his head half pillowed against his brother John's shoulder. "What a blessed thing is childhood, and ignorance of danger!" murmured Anne, looking at her husband. "Aye," he said softly, as they turned away. "So may we know no fear of dangers that threaten, sweet wife, while we trust to Him who watcheth us,--who 'slumbers not, nor sleeps.'"