"What hath happened, sirs, that so many come to visit us at one time? It is like our councils when the old chiefs debate about the council fires."
No one was anxious to be the first to answer, but since some reply was necessary, the councilor who had testified to Mistress Lettice's insight said slowly and solemnly:
"We have come. Princess, to condole with thee at the death of thy friend, Captain John Smith."
"Dead!" cried Pocahontas. "He is dead?"
And the men, who wished not to burden their consciences with a spoken lie, all nodded assent. They thought to see the girl burst into tears or run away, as they had more than once seen her do when she was displeased; but instead she stood still, her face as motionless as a statue's. They were glad to slip away with muttered words of sympathy.
Nor when they were gone did Mistress Lettice's curious and affectionate eyes witness any sign of sorrow.
"I own myself wrong," she said that night to her husband; "she careth naught for the Captain. I wept all day last Michaelmas when my old dog died."
But Mistress Lettice did not hear the door unlatched that night, nor the moccasined feet of Pocahontas as they sped through the street down to a quiet spot on the river bank whither she often went. The maiden's heart was so full that under a roof she felt it would burst. And until dawn she stood on the shore, her face turned eastward towards the sea across which he had sailed away, bewailing her "Brother" in the manner of her people, now calling to Okee to guide him to the happy hunting grounds, and now praying God to bear his soul to the Christian heaven.
John Rolfe found nothing amiss with Pocahontas when he saw her next day, nor did any of the conspirators tell him of the false news that they had communicated to Lady Rebecca or their interest in his wooing.