HOPE LESLIE: OR, EARLY TIMES IN THE MASSACHUSETTS. BY CATHARINE MARIA SEDGWICK AUTHOR OF “THE LINWOODS,” “POOR RICH MAN,” “LIVE AND LET LIVE,” “REDWOOD,” &c. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. II. NEW-YORK: HARPER & BROTHERS, 82 CLIFF-ST. 1842. [COPYRIGHT.] Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1842, by Harper & Brothers, In the Clerk’s Office of the Southern District of New-York. [EPIGRAPH.] Here stood the Indian chieftain, rejoicing in his glory! How deep the shade of sadness that rests upon his story: For the white man came with power--like brethren they met-- But the Indian fires went out, and the Indian sun has set! And the chieftain has departed--gone is his hunting-ground, And the twanging of the bowstring is a forgotten sound: Where dwelleth yesterday? and where is Echo’s cell? Where has the rainbow vanished?--there does the Indian dwell.--E. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I CHAPTER II CHAPTER III CHAPTER IV CHAPTER V CHAPTER VI CHAPTER VII CHAPTER VIII CHAPTER IX CHAPTER X CHAPTER XI CHAPTER XII CHAPTER XIII CHAPTER XIV NOTES ENDNOTES HOPE LESLIE, VOLUME II. {3} CHAPTER I. “Those well scene natives in grave Nature’s hests, All close designs conceal in their deep brests.” Morrell. It would be highly improper any longer to keep our readers in ignorance of the cause of our heroine’s apparent aberration from the line of strict propriety. After her conversation with Everell, in which we must infer, from its effect on his mind, that she manifested less art than zeal in her friend’s cause, she was retiring to her own apartment, when, on passing through the hall, she saw an Indian woman standing there, requesting the servant who had admitted her “to ask the young ladies of the house if they would look at some rare moccasins.” Miss Leslie was arrested by the uncommon sweetness of the stranger’s voice; and fixing her eye on her, she was struck with the singular dignity and grace of her demeanour--a certain air indicating an “inborn royalty of soul,” that even the ugly envelope of a blanket did not conceal. The stranger seemed equally interested in Miss Leslie’s appearance; and, fixing her eye intently on her, “Pray try my moccasins, lady,” she said, earnestly. {4} “Oh, certainly; I should of all things like to buy a pair of you,” said Hope; and, advancing, she was taking them from her shoulder, over which they were slung, when she, ascertaining by a quick glance that the servant had disappeared, gently repressed Miss Leslie’s hand, saying at the same time, “Tell me thy name, lady.” “My name! Hope Leslie. But who art thou?” Hope asked in return, in a voice rendered almost inarticulate by the thought that flashed into her mind. The stranger cast down her eyes, and for half an instant hesitated; then looking apprehensively around, she said, in low, distinct accents, “Hope Leslie, I am Magawisca.”