knock together in dead earnest. But to the matter in hand. When I had thrown yonder stone, I walked quietly down to the Governor’s house and looked through the window. The Governor hath the Company’s letters, and he and the Council — all save the reprobate Pory — sit there staring at them and drumming with their fingers on the table.”

“Is Rolfe of the Council?” I asked.

“Ay; he was speaking, — for you, I suppose, though I heard not the words. They all listened, but they all shook their heads.”

“We shall know in the morning,” I said. “The night grows wilder, and honest folks should be abed. Nantauquas, good-night. When will you have tamed your panther?”