“Come, my young friend, and perhaps we may find them.” The doctor took his arm and led him along till they reached a somewhat highly-pointed but very neat cottage.
“There, whom do you see there?” he asked, pointing through the window. There were four ladies, two old ones and two young. One of them was Gretchen. She was close to the window, so he saw her first; but beyond her,—yes, there was no doubt about it, there sat Mary Mead. They were engaged in their work, so they did not see him.
“Stay,” said the doctor, “I forgot. A certain friend of yours has been telling them that you are dead; that he has had news of it; and it might agitate them somewhat, if you were to appear suddenly. I will go in and prepare them.” Wenlock stood outside, hid by the porch. He heard first Master Mead’s rich voice utter a note of surprise, and then several female voices. He thought he could distinguish Mary’s. It was very low, though. Master Mead was the first to come out and welcome him, and in a few seconds he was in the presence of Mary and Gretchen and the two old ladies.
“My dear sister, I am so thankful,” exclaimed Gretchen, bestowing a kiss on Mary, “that he has been restored to you.” Whatever doubt Master Mead had before, as to bestowing his daughter on Wenlock, it was set at rest by the appearance of the elder Wenlock Christison, who very speedily satisfied all prudential scruples, by informing the worthy father of his intentions regarding his nephew.
While the party were assembled, a head was put into the door. It was quickly withdrawn.
“Oh! it is that odious Jonas Ford,” said Gretchen. “I am sure he never comes here to speak truth.”
“Nay; but we should not think harshly of a friend,” observed Mead.
“I do not think over harshly,” answered Gretchen. “If ever there was a sleek hypocrite, that man is one.” Time showed that Gretchen was right, although Wenlock escaped the consequences of his machinations. Wenlock, however, could not remain long at Chester, having to proceed up to the new capital, Philadelphia, to give an account of his mission to the governor. He was received in the kindest manner by the governor, who was living in a log hut while his intended residence, some way higher up, was building.
“Here, my young friend,” he said, pointing to a large sheet of paper spread out on a table, “is the plan of our future capital. See, we shall have two noble rows of houses fronting the two rivers; and, here, a magnificent avenue of one hundred feet in width, which we will call the High Street, uniting them with lines of trees on either side. Then we will have Broad Street, cutting the city in two parts from north to south, with a magnificent square of ten acres in the centre, and in the middle of each quarter there shall be another square, each of eight acres, for the recreation of the people, and we will have many detached buildings covered with trailing plants, green and rural, to remind us of the country towns of England. Already many houses have been put up, and the people show a commendable energy in erecting more, as fast as materials can be procured. To-morrow I have appointed for a meeting with the native chiefs, to hold a solemn conference for the purpose of confirming former treaties, and forming with them a lasting league of peace and friendship. I am glad that thou art come, Christison, as it will be a matter of great interest. Thou hast probably visited the spot with my kinsman, Colonel Markham. It is called Sakimaxing, the meaning of which is, ‘The place or locality of kings.’”
“Yea,” answered Wenlock; “I accompanied him on more than one occasion, when he had to make arrangements with Taminent. The natives hold in great respect an ancient elm of vast size which, they say, is already one hundred and fifty-five years old. Under its branches the tribes are wont to meet to smoke the calumet of peace, and to arrange their disputes.”