"There is meaning in this masquerade," observed Content, who had long and intently studied the dull and ungainly countenance that was exposed to his scrutiny by the operation. "I have heard of Christian men who have sold themselves to gain, and who, forgetting religion and the love of their race--have been known to league with the savage in order to pursue rapine in the settlements. This wretch hath the subtlety of one of the French of the Canadas in his eye." "Away! away!" cried Faith, forcing herself in front of the speaker, and, by placing her two hands on the shaven crown of the prisoner, forming a sort of shade to his features. "Away with all folly, about the Frenchers and wicked leagues! This is no plotting miscreant, but a stricken innocent! Whittal--my brother Whittal, dost know me?" The tears rolled down the cheeks of the wayward woman, as she gazed into the face of her witless relative, whose eye lighted with one of its occasional gleamings of intelligence, and who indulged in a low, vacant laugh, ere he answered her earnest interrogatory. "Some speak like men from over sea," he said, "and some speak like men of the woods. Is there such a thing as bear's meat, or a mouthful of hommony, in the wigwam?" Had the voice of one, long known to be in the grave, broken on the ears of the family, it would scarcely have produced a deeper sensation, or have quickened the blood more violently about their hearts, than this sudden and utterly unexpected discovery of the character of their captive. Wonder and awe held them mute for a time, and then Ruth was seen standing before the restored wanderer her hands clasped in the attitude of petition, her eye contracted and imploring, and her whole person expressive of the suspense and excitement which had roused her long-latent emotions to agony. "Tell me," said a thrilling voice, that might have quickened the intellect of one even duller than the man addressed, "as thou hast pity in thy heart, tell me, if my babe yet live?" "'Tis a good babe," returned the other; and then laughing again, in his own vacant and unmeaning manner, he bent his eyes with a species of stupid wonder on Faith, in whose appearance there was far less change, than in the speaking but wasted countenance of her who stood immediately before him. "Give leave, dearest Madam," interposed the sister: "I know the nature of the boy, and could ever do more with him than any other." But this request was useless. The system of the mother, in its present state of excitement, was unequal to further effort. Sinking into the watchful arms of Content, she was borne away, and, for a minute, the anxious interest of the handmaidens left none but the men on the piazza. "Whittal--my old playfellow, Whittal Ring;" said the son of Content, advancing with a humid eye to take the hand of the prisoner. "Hast forgotten, man, the companion of thy early days? It is young Mark Heathcote that speaks."