diff options
Diffstat (limited to '39323-8.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 39323-8.txt | 8548 |
1 files changed, 8548 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/39323-8.txt b/39323-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..11ee823 --- /dev/null +++ b/39323-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8548 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Pilgrim Maid, by Marion Ames Taggart + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Pilgrim Maid + A Story of Plymouth Colony in 1620 + +Author: Marion Ames Taggart + +Illustrator: The Donaldsons + +Release Date: April 1, 2012 [EBook #39323] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A PILGRIM MAID *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank, Maria Grist and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + + + +A PILGRIM MAID + +A Story of Plymouth Colony in 1620 + +[Illustration: "Constance opened the door, stepping back to let the +bride precede her"] + + + + + A PILGRIM MAID + + _A Story of Plymouth Colony in 1620_ + + BY + MARION AMES TAGGART + + AUTHOR OF + "CAPTAIN SYLVIA," "THE DAUGHTERS OF THE + LITTLE GREY HOUSE," "THE LITTLE GREY + HOUSE," "HOLLYHOCK HOUSE," ETC. + + + ILLUSTRATED + BY + THE DONALDSONS + + + DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY + GARDEN CITY NEW YORK LONDON + 1920 + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY + DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY + ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF + TRANSLATION INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, + INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN + + + + + DEDICATED + TO + YOU, MY DEAR + WHO SO WELL KNOW WHY + + + + +PREFACE + + +This story is like those we hear of our neighbours to-day: it is a +mixture of fact and fancy. + +The aim in telling it has been to present Plymouth Colony as it was in +its first three years of existence; to keep to possibilities, even while +inventing incidents. + +Actual events have been transferred from a later to an earlier year when +they could be made useful, to bring them within the story's compass, and +to develop it. + +For instance, John Billington was lost for five days and died early, but +not as early as in the story. Stephen Hopkins was fined for allowing +his servants to play shovelboard, but this did not happen till some time +later than 1622. Stephen Hopkins was twice married; records show that +there was dissension; that the second wife tried to get an inheritance +for her own children, to the injury of the son and daughter of the first +wife. Facts of this sort are used, enlarged upon, construed to cause, or +altered to suit, certain results. + +But there is fidelity to the general trend of events, above all to the +spirit of Plymouth in its beginnings. As far as may be, the people who +have been transferred into the story act in accordance with what is +known of the actual bearers of these names. + +There was a Maid of Plymouth, Constance Hopkins, who came in the +_Mayflower_, with her father Stephen; her stepmother, Eliza; her +brother, Giles, and her little half-sister and brother, Damaris and +Oceanus, and to whom the _Anne_, in 1623, brought her husband, +Honourable Nicholas Snowe, afterward one of the founders of Eastham, +Massachusetts. + +Undoubtedly the real Constance Hopkins was sweeter than the story can +make her, as a living girl must be sweeter than one created of paper and +ink. Yet it is hoped that this Plymouth Maid, Constance, of the story, +may also find friends. + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER PAGE + +I. With England's Shores Left Far Astern 3 + +II. To Buffet Waves and Ride on Storms 15 + +III. Weary Waiting at the Gates 31 + +IV. The First Yuletide 45 + +V. The New Year in the New Land 61 + +VI. Stout Hearts and Sad Ones 76 + +VII. The Persuasive Power of Justice +and Violence 90 + +VIII. Deep Love, Deep Wound 104 + +IX. Seedtime of the First Spring 119 + +X. Treaties 133 + +XI. A Home Begun and a Home Undone 150 + +XII. The Lost Lads 166 + +XIII. Sundry Herbs and Simples 183 + +XIV. Light-Minded Man, Heavy-Hearted Master 199 + +XV. The "Fortune" That Sailed, First West, +then East 216 + +XVI. A Gallant Lad Withal 234 + +XVII. The Well-Conned Lesson 251 + +XVIII. Christmas Wins, Though Outlawed 267 + +XIX. A Fault Confessed, Thereby Redressed 284 + +XX. The Third Summer's Garnered Yield 302 + + + + +LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + +"Constance opened the door, stepping back to let +the bride precede her" _Frontispiece_ +(_See page 157_) + + FACING PAGE + +"'Constantia; confess, confess--and do not try +to shield thy wicked brother'" 52 + +"'Look there,' said John Alden" 116 + +"'You look splendid, my Knight of the Wilderness'" 244 + + + + + A PILGRIM MAID + + A Story of Plymouth Colony in 1620 + + + + +_A PILGRIM MAID_ + + + + +CHAPTER I + +With England's Shores Left Far Astern + + +A young girl, brown-haired, blue-eyed, with a sweet seriousness that was +neither joy nor sorrow upon her fair pale face, leaned against the mast +on the _Mayflower's_ deck watching the bustle of the final preparations +for setting sail westward. + +A boy somewhat older than she stood beside her whittling an arrow from a +bit of beechwood, whistling through his teeth, his tongue pressed +against them, a livelier air than a pilgrim boy from Leyden was supposed +to know, and sullenly scorning to betray interest in the excitement +ashore and aboard. + +A little girl clung to the pretty young girl's skirt; the unlikeness +between them, though they were sisters, was explained by their being but +half sisters. Little Damaris was like her mother, Constance's +stepmother, while Constance herself reflected the delicate loveliness of +her own and her brother Giles's mother, dead in early youth and lying +now at rest in a green English churchyard while her children were +setting forth into the unknown. + +Two boys--one older than Constance, Giles's age, the other younger than +the girl--came rushing down the deck with such impetuosity, plus the +younger lad's head used as a battering ram, that the men at work stowing +away hampers and barrels, trying to clear a way for the start, gave +place to the rough onslaught. + +Several looked after the pair in a way that suggested something more +vigorous than a look had it not been that fear of the pilgrim leaders +restrained swearing. Not a whit did the charging lads care for the wrath +they aroused. The elder stopped himself by clutching the rope which +Constance Hopkins idly swung, while the younger caught Giles around the +waist and nearly pulled him over. + +"I'll teach you manners, you young savage, Francis Billington!" growled +Giles, but he did not mean it, as Francis well knew. + +"If I'm a savage I'll be the only one of us at home in America," +chuckled the boy. + +"Getting ready an arrow for the savage?" he added. + +"It's all decided. There's been the greatest to-do ashore. Why didn't +you come off the ship to see the last of 'em, Constance?" interrupted +the older boy. Constance Hopkins shook her head, sadly. + +"Nay, then, John, I've had my fill of partings," she said. "Are they +gone back, those we had to leave behind?" + +"That have they!" cried John Billington. "Some of them were sorry to +miss the adventure, but if truth were told some were glad to be well out +of it, and with no more disgrace in setting back than that the +_Mayflower_ could not hold us all. Well, they've missed danger and maybe +death, but I'd not be out of it for a king's ransom. Giles, what do you +think is whispered? That the _Speedwell_ could make the voyage as well +as the _Mayflower_, though she be smaller, if only she carried less +sail, and that her leaking is--a greater leak in her master Reynolds's +truth, and that she'd be seaworthy if he'd let her!" + +"Cur!" growled Giles Hopkins. "He knows he'd have to stay with his ship +in the wilderness a year it might be and there's better comfort in +England and Holland! We're well rid of him if he's that kind of a +coward. I wondered myself if he was up to a trick when we put in the +first time, at Dartmouth. This time when we made Plymouth I smelled a +rat certain. Are we almost loaded?" + +"Yes. They've packed all the provisions from the _Speedwell_ into the +_Mayflower_ that she will hold. We'll be off soon. Not too soon! The +sixth day of September, and we a month dallying along the shore because +of the _Speedwell's_ leaking! Constantia, you'll be cold before we make +a fire in the New World I'm thinking!" + +John Billington chuckled as if the cold of winter in the wilderness were +a merry jest. + +"Cold, and maybe hungry, and maybe ill of body and sick of heart, but +never quite losing courage, I hope, John, comrade!" Constance said, +looking up with a smile and a flush that warmed her white cheeks from +which heavy thoughts had driven their usual soft colour. + +"No fear! You're the kind that says little and does much," said John +Billington with surprising sharpness in a lad that never seemed to have +a thought to spare for anything but madcap pranks. + +"Here come Father, and the captain, and dear John," said little Damaris. + +Stephen Hopkins was a strong-built man, with a fire in his eye, and an +air of the world about him, in spite of his severe Puritan garb, that +declared him different from most of his comrades of the Leyden community +of English exiles. + +With all her likeness to her dead English girl-mother, who was gentle +born and well bred, there was something in Constance as she stood now, +head up and eyes bright, that was also like her father. + +Beside Mr. Hopkins walked a thick-set man, a soldier in every motion and +look, with little of the Puritan in his air, and just behind them came a +young man, far younger than either of the others, with an open, pleasant +English face, and an expression at once shy and friendly. + +"Oh, dear John Alden!" cried little Damaris, and forsook Constance's +skirt for John Alden's ready arms which raised her to his shoulder. + +Giles Hopkins's gloom lifted as he returned Captain Myles Standish's +salute. + +"Yes, Captain; I'm ready enough to sail," he said, answering the +captain's question. + +"Mistress Constantia?" suggested Myles Standish. + +"Is there doubt of it when we've twice put in from sea, and were ready +to sail when we left Southampton a month ago?" asked Constance. "Sure we +are ready, Captain Standish, as you well know. Where is Mistress Rose?" + +"In the women's cabin with Mistress Hopkins putting to rights their +belongings as fast as they can before we weigh anchor, and get perhaps +stood on our heads by winds and waves," Captain Standish smiled. "Though +the wind is fine for us now." His face clouded. "Mistress Rose is a +frail rose, Con! They will be coming on deck to see the start." + +"The voyage may give sweet Rose new strength, Captain Standish," +murmured Constance coming close to the captain and slipping her hand +into his, for she was his prime favourite and his lovely, frail young +wife's chosen friend, in spite of the ten years difference in their +ages. + +"Ah, Con, my lass, God grant it, but I'm sore afraid for her! How can +she buffet the exposure of a wilderness winter, and--hush! Here they +are!" whispered Myles Standish. + +Mistress Eliza Hopkins was tall, bony, sinewy of build, with a dark, +strong face, determination and temper in her eye. Rose Standish was her +opposite--a slight, pale, drooping creature not more than five years +above twenty; patience, suffering in her every motion, and clinging +affection in every line of her gentle face. + +Constance ran to wind her arm around her as Rose came up and slipped one +little hand into her husband's arm. + +Mrs. Hopkins frowned. + +"It likes me not to see you so forward with caresses, Constantia," she +said, and her voice rasped like the ship's tackles as the sailors got up +the canvas. + +"It is not becoming in the elect whose hearts are set upon heavenly +things to fawn upon creatures, nor make unmaidenly displays." + +Giles kicked viciously at the rope which Constance had held. It was not +hard to guess that the unnatural gloom, the sullenness that marked a boy +meant by Nature to be pleasant, was due to bad blood between him and +this aggressive stepmother, who plainly did not like him. + +"Oh, Mistress Hopkins," cried Constance, flushing, "why do you think it +is wrong to be loving? Never can I believe God who made us with warm +hearts, and gave us such darlings as Rose Standish, didn't want us to +love and show our love." + +"You are much too free with your irreverence, Mistress Constantia; it +becomes you not to proclaim your Maker's opinions and desires for his +saints," said Mrs. Hopkins, frowning heavily. + +"'Sdeath, Eliza, will you never let the girl alone?" cried Stephen +Hopkins, angrily. + +"As though we had nothing to think of in weighing anchor and leaving +England for ever--and for what else besides, who knows--without carping +at a little girl's loving natural ways to an older girl whom she loves? +I agree with Connie; it's good to sweeten life with affection." + +"Connie, forsooth!" echoed Mrs. Hopkins, bitterly. "Are we to use +meaningless titles for young women setting forth to found a kingdom? And +do you still use the oaths of worldlings, as you did just now? Oh, +Stephen Hopkins, may you not be found unworthy of your high calling and +invoke the wrath of Heaven upon your family!" + +Stephen Hopkins looked ready to burst out into hot wrath, but Myles +Standish gave him a humorous glance, and shrugged his shoulders. + +"What would you?" he seemed to say. "Old friend, bad temper seizes every +opportunity to wreak itself, and we who have seen the world can afford +to let the women fume. Jealousy is a worse vice than an oath of the +Stuart reign." + +Stephen Hopkins harkened to this unspoken philosophy; Myles Standish had +great influence over him. This, with the rapid gathering on deck of the +rest of the pilgrims, served to avert what threatened to be an explosion +of pardonable wrath. They came crowding up from the cabins, this +courageous band of determined men and women, and gathered silently to +look their last on home, and not merely on home, but on the comforts of +the established life which to many among them were necessary to their +existence. + +There were many children, sober little men and women, in unchildlike +caricatures of their elders' garb and with solemn round faces looking +scared by the gravity around them. + +Priscilla Mullins gathered the children together and led them over to +join Constance Hopkins. She and Constance divided the love of the child +pilgrims between them. Priscilla, round of face, smooth and rosy of +cheek, wholesome and sensible, was good to look upon. It often happened +that her duty brought her near to wherever John Alden might chance to +be, but no one had ever suspected that John objected. + +John Alden had been taken on as cooper from Southampton when the +_Mayflower_ first sailed. It was not certain that the pilgrims could +keep him with them. Already they had learned to value him, and many a +glance was now exchanged that told the hope that sunny little Priscilla +might help to hold the young man on this hard expedition. + +The crew of the _Mayflower_ pulled up her sails, but without the usual +sailor songs. Silently they pulled, working in unison to the sharp words +of command uttered by their officers, till every shred of canvas, under +which they were to set forth under a favouring wind, was strained into +place and set. + +On the shore was gathered a crowd gazing, wondering, at this departure. +Some there were who were to have been of the company in the lesser ship, +the _Speedwell_, which had been remanded from the voyage as unfit for +it. These lingered to see the setting forth for the New World which was +not to be their world, after all. + +There were many who gazed, pityingly, awe-struck, but bewildered by the +spirit that led these severe-looking people away from England first, and +then from Holland, to try their fortunes where no fortune promised. + +Others there were who laughed merrily over the absurdity of the quest, +and these called all sorts of jests and quips to the pilgrims on the +ship, inviting to a contest of wit which the pilgrims utterly disdained. + +And then the by-standers on wharf and sands of old Plymouth became +silent, for, as the _Mayflower_ began to move out from her dock, there +arose the solemn chant of a psalm. + +The air was wailing, lugubrious, unmusical, but the words were awesome. + +"When Israel went out from Egypt, from the land of a strange people," +they were singing. + +"A strange people!" And these pilgrims were of English blood, and this +was England which they were thus renouncing! + +What curious folk these were! + +But this psalm was followed by another: "The Lord is my shepherd." + +Ah, that was another matter! No one who heard them, however slight the +sympathy felt for this unsympathetic band, but hoped that the Lord would +shepherd them, "lead them beside still waters," for the sea might well +be unquiet. + +"Oh, poor creatures, poor creatures," said a buxom woman, snuggling her +baby's head into her deep shoulder, and wiping her own eyes with her +apron. "I fain must pity 'em, that I must, though I'm none too lovin' +myself toward their queer dourness. But I hope the Lord will shepherd +'em; sore will they need it, I'm thinkin', yonder where there's no +shepherds nor flocks, but only wild men to cut them down like we do haw +for the church, as they all thinks is wicked!" she mourned, motherly +yearning toward the people going out the harbour like babes in the wood, +into no one would dare say what awful fate. + +The pilgrims stood with their faces set toward England, with England +tugging at their heart strings, as the strong southeasterly wind filled +the _Mayflower's_ canvas and pulled at her shrouds. + +And as they sailed away the monotonous chant of the psalms went on, +floating back to England, a farewell and a prophecy. + +Rose Standish's tears were softly falling and her voice was silent, but +Constance Hopkins chanted bravely, and the children joined her with +Priscilla Mullins's strong contralto upholding them. + +Even Giles sang, and the two scamps of Billington boys looked serious +for once, and helped the chant. + +Myles Standish raised his soldier's hat and turned to Stephen Hopkins, +holding out his right hand. + +"We're fairly off this time, friend Stephen," he said. "God speed us." + +"Amen, Captain Myles, for else we'll speed not, returned Stephen +Hopkins. + +"Oh, Daddy, we're together anyway!" cried Constance, with one of her +sudden bursts of emotion which her stepmother so severely condemned, and +she threw herself on her father's breast. + +Mr. Hopkins did not share his wife's view of his beloved little girl's +demonstrativeness. He patted her head gently, tucking a stray wisp of +hair under her Puritan cap. + +"There, there, my child, there, there, Connie! Surely we're together and +shall be. So it can't be a wilderness for us, can it?" he said. + +An hour later, the wind still favouring, the _Mayflower_ dropped +sunsetward, out of old Plymouth Harbour. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +To Buffet Waves and Ride on Storms + + +The wind held fair, the golden September weather waited on each new day +at its rising and sent it at its close, radiantly splendid, into the sea +ahead of the _Mayflower_ as she swept westward. + +Full canvas hoisted she was able to sail at her best speed under the +favouring conditions so that the hopeful young people whom she carried +talked confidently of the houses they would build, the village they +would found before heavy frosts. Captain Myles Standish, always +impetuous as any of the boys, was one of those who let themselves forget +there were such things as storms. + +"We'll be New Englishmen at this rate before we fully realize we've left +home; what do you say, my lassies three?" he demanded, pausing in a +rapid stride of the deck before Constance Hopkins and two young girls +who were her own age, but seemed much younger, Humility Cooper and her +cousin, Elizabeth Tilley. + +"What do you three mermaidens in this forward nook each morning?" +Captain Standish went on without waiting for a reply to his first +question, which indeed, he had not asked to have it answered. + +"Elizabeth's mother, Mistress John Tilley, is sick and declares that she +shall die," said Constance, Humility and Elizabeth being shyly silent +before the captain. + +"No one ever thought to live through sea-sickness, nor wanted to," +declared Captain Myles with his hearty laugh. "Yet no one dies of it, +that is certain. And is Mistress Ann Tilley also lain down and left +Humility to the mercy of the dolphins? And is your stepmother, too, Con, +a victim? It's a calm sea we've been having by comparison. I've sailed +from England into France when there _was_ a sea running, certes! But +this--pooh!" + +"Humility's cousin, Mistress Ann Tilley, is not ill, nor my stepmother, +Captain Standish, but they are attending to those who are, and to the +children. Father says that when he sailed for Virginia, before my mother +died, meaning to settle there, that the storm that wrecked them on +Bermuda Island and kept us from being already these eleven years +colonists in the New World, was a wind and sea that make this seem no +more than the lake at the king's palace, where the swans float." + +Constance looked up smiling at the captain as she answered, but he noted +that her eyes were swollen from tears. + +"Take a turn with me along the deck, child," Captain Myles said, +gruffly, and held out a hand to steady Constance on her feet. + +"Now, what was it?" he asked, lightly touching the young girl's cheek +when they had passed beyond the hearing of Constance's two demure little +companions. "Homesick, my lass?" + +"Heartsick, rather, Captain Myles," said Constance, with a sob. +"Mistress Hopkins hates me!" + +"Oh, fie, Connie, how could she?" asked the captain, lightly, but he +scowled angrily. There was much sympathy between him and Stephen +Hopkins, neither of whom agreed with the extreme severity of most of +the pilgrims; they both had seen the world and looked at life from their +wider experience. + +Captain Standish knew that Giles's and Constance's mother had been the +daughter of an old and honourable family, with all the fine qualities of +mind and soul that should be the inheritance of gentle breeding. He knew +how it had come about that Stephen Hopkins had married a second time a +woman greatly her inferior, whose jealousy of the first wife's children +saddened their young lives and made his own course hard and unpleasant. +Prone to speak his mind and fond of Giles and Constance, the impetuous +captain often found it hard to keep his tongue between his teeth when +Dame Eliza indulged in her favourite game of badgering, persecuting her +stepchildren. Now, when he said: "Fie, how could she?" Constance looked +up at him with a forlorn smile. She knew the captain was quite aware +that her stepmother could, and did dislike her, and she caught the anger +in his voice. + +"How could she not, dear Captain Myles?" she asked. Then, with her +pent-up feeling overmastering her, she burst out sobbing. + +"Oh, you know she hates, she hates me, Captain!" she cried. "Nothing I +can do is pleasing to her. I take care of Damaris--sure I love my little +sister, and do not remember the half that is not my sister in her! And +I wait on Mistress Hopkins, and sew, and do her bidding, and I do not +answer her cruel taunts, nor do I go to my father complaining; but she +hates me. Is it fair? Could I help it that my father loved my own +mother, and married her, and that she was a lovely and accomplished +lady?" + +"Do you want to help it, if by helping you mean altering, Connie?" asked +Captain Myles, with a twinkle. "No, child, you surely cannot help all +these things which come by no will of yours, but by the will of God. And +I am your witness that you are ever patient and dutiful. Bear as best +you can, sweet Constantia, and by and by the wrong will become right, as +right in the end is ever strongest. I cannot endure to see your young +eyes wet with tears called out by unkindness. There is enough and to +spare of hard matters to endure for all of us on this adventure not to +add to it what is not only unnecessary, but unjust. Cheer up, Con, my +lass! It's a long lane--in England!--that has no turning, and it's a +long voyage on the seas that ends in no safe harbour! And do you know, +Connie girl, that there's soon to be a turn in this bright weather? +There's a feeling of change and threatening in this soft wind." + +Constance wiped her eyes and smiled, knowing that the captain wished to +lead her into other themes than her own troubles, the discussion of +which was, after all, useless. + +"I don't know about the weather, except the weather I'm having," she +said. "Ah, I don't want it to storm, not on the mid-seas, Captain +Myles." + +"Aye, but it's the mid-seas of the year, Connie, when the days and +nights are one in length, and at that time old wise men say a storm is +usually forthcoming. We'll weather it, never fear! If we are bearing +westward a great hope and mission as we all believe--not I in precisely +the same fashion as these stricter saints, but in my own way no +less--then we are sure to reach our goal, my dear," said the captain +cheerfully. + +"Sometimes I lose faith; I think I am wicked," sighed Constance. + +"We are all poor miserable sinners! Even the English Church which we +have cast off and consigned to perdition, puts that confession into our +mouths," said Captain Myles, with another twinkle, and was gratified +that Constance's laugh rang out in response to his thinly veiled +mischief. + +Captain Standish proved to be a true prophet. On the second day after he +had announced to Constance the coming change in weather it came. The +_Mayflower_ ran into a violent storm, seas and wind were wild, the small +ship tossed on the crest of billows and plunged down into the chasm +between them as they reared high above her till it seemed impossible +that she should hold together, far less hold her course. + +In truth she did not hold to her course, but fell off it before the +storm, groaning in every beam as if with fearful grief at her own +danger, and at the likelihood of destroying by her destruction the hope, +the tremendous mission which she bore within her. + +The women and children cowered below in their crowded quarters--lacking +air, space, every comfort--numb with the misery of sickness and the +threat of imminent death. + +Constance Hopkins, young as she was, cheered and sustained her elders. +Like a mettlesome horse that throws up his head and puts forth renewed +strength when there rises before him a long steep mountain, Constance +laughed at fear, sang and jested, tenderly helping the sick, gathering +around her the children for story-telling and such quiet play as there +was room for. Little Damaris was sick and cross, but Constance comforted +her with unfailing patience, proving so motherly an elder sister than +even Mistress Eliza's jealous dislike for the girl melted when she saw +her so loving to the child. + +"You are proving yourself a good girl, Constantia," she said, with +something like shame. "If I die you will look after Damaris and bring +her up as I would have done? Promise me this, for I know that you will +never break your word, and having it I can leave my child without +anxiety for her future." + +"It needs no promise, Stepmother," said Constance. "Surely I would not +fail to do my best for my little sister. But if you want my word fully, +it is given you. I will try to be grown up and wise, and bring up +Damaris carefully if you should leave her. But isn't this silly talk! +You will not die. You will tell Damaris's little girls about your voyage +in the _Mayflower_, and laugh with them over how you talked of dying +when we were so tossed and tumbled, like a tennis ball struck by a +strong hand holding a big racquet, but unskilled at the game!" Constance +laughed but her stepmother frowned. + +"Never shall I talk of games to my daughter," she said, "nor shall you, +if you take my place." Then she relented, recalling Constance's +unselfish kindness all these dark hours. + +"But you have been a good girl, Constantia. Though I fear you are not +chastised in spirit as becomes one of our company of saints, yet have +you been patient and gentle in all ways, and a mother to Damaris and the +other small ones. I can do no less than say this and remember it," she +added. + +Constance was white from weariness and the fear that she fought down +with merry chatter, but now a warm flush spread to her hair. + +"Oh, Mistress Hopkins, if you would not hate me, if you would but think +me just a little worthy of kindly thoughts--for indeed I am not +wicked--the hardship of this voyage would be a cheap price to pay for +it! I would not be so unhappy as I am if, though you did not love me, +you would at least not hate me, nor mind that my father loved me--me and +Giles!" Constance cried passionately, trembling on the verge of tears. + +Then she dashed her hand across her eyes as Giles might have done, and +laughed to choke down a sob. + +"Priscilla! Priscilla Mullins, come! I need your help," she called. + +"What to do, Constance?" asked Priscilla, edging her way from the other +end of the crowded cabin to the younger girl. + +Priscilla looked blooming still, in spite of the conditions to dim her +bright colour. + +Placid by nature, she did not fret over discomfort or danger. Trim and +neat, she was a pleasant sight among the distressed, pallid faces about +her, like a bit of English sky, a green English meadow, a warm English +hearth in the waste of waters that led to the waste of wintry +wilderness. + +"What am I do to for thee, Constance?" Priscilla asked in her deep, alto +voice. + +"Help me get these children up into the air in a sheltered nook on +deck," said Constance. "They are suffocating here." + +"No, no!" cried two or three mothers. "They will be washed away, +Constantia." + +"Not where we have been taking them these three days past," said +Priscilla. "Let me go first and get John Alden to prepare that nest of +sails and ropes he made so cleverly for us two days ago." + +"What doesn't John Alden do cleverly?" murmured Constance, with a sly +glance. "Go then, Pris dear, but don't forget to hasten back to tell me +it is ready." + +Priscilla did not linger. John Alden had gotten two others to help him, +and a safe shelter where the children could be packed to breathe the air +they sorely needed was ready when Priscilla came to ask for it. So +Priscilla hurried back and soon she and Constance had the little +pilgrims safely stowed, made comfortable, though Damaris feared the +great waves towering on every side and clung to Constance in desperate +faith. + +"What is to do yonder?" asked Priscilla of John Alden, who after they +were settled came to see that everything was right with them. + +"What are the men working upon?" + +"I suppose it's no harm telling you now," said John Alden, "since they +are at work as you see, but the ship has been leaking badly, and one of +her main beams bowed and cracked, directly amidships. There has been the +next thing to mutiny among the sailors, who have no desire to go to the +bottom, and wanted to turn back. We have been in consultation and they +have growled and threatened, but we are half way over to the western +world so may as safely go on as to return. At last we got them to agree +to that and now they are mending the ship. We have aboard a great jack; +one of the passengers brought it out of Holland, luckily. What they are +doing yonder is jacking up that broken beam. The carpenter is going to +set a post under it in the lower deck, and calk the leaky upper parts, +and so we shall go on to America. The ship is staunch enough, we all +agree, if only we can hold her where she is strained. But you had no +idea of how near you were to going back, had you?" + +"Oh, no!" cried Priscilla. "Almost am I tempted to wish we had +returned." + +"No, no, no!" cried Constance. "No turning back! Storms, and savages, +and wilderness ahead, but no turning back!" + +Damaris fell asleep on Constance's shoulder, and slept so deeply that +when Myles Standish, Stephen Hopkins, and John Alden came to help the +girls to get the children safely down again into their cabin she did not +waken, and Constance begged to be allowed to stay there with her, +letting her sleep in the strong air, for the child had troubled her +sister by her languor. + +Cramped and aching Constance kept her place, Damaris's dead weight upon +her arm, till, after a long time, her father returned to her with a +moved face. + +"Shift the child to my arm, Constance," he said, sitting beside her. +"You must be weary with your long vigil over her, my patient, sweet +Constance!" + +"Oh, Father-daddy," cried Constance, quick tears springing to her eyes, +"what does it matter if you call me that? You will always love me, my +father?" + +"Child, child, what aileth thee?" said Stephen Hopkins, gently. "Are you +not the very core of my heart, so like your lovely young mother that you +grip me at times with the pain of my joy in you and my sorrow for her. +The pilgrim brethren would not approve of such expressions of love, my +dear, yet I think God who gave me a father's heart and you a daughter's, +and taught us our duty to Him by the figure of His own Fatherhood, +cannot share that condemnation. All the world to me you shall be to the +end of my life, my Constance. But I came to tell you a great piece of +news. The _Mayflower_ has shipped another passenger, mid-seas though it +is." + +Constance looked up questioningly. + +"I have another son, Constance. The angels given charge of little +children saw him safely to us through the perils of the voyage. Do you +not think, as I do, that this child is like a promise to us of success +in the New World?" + +"Yes, Father," said Constance, softly, sweet gravity upon her face, and +tears upon her lashes. "Will he be called Stephen?" + +"Your stepmother wishes him named Oceanus, because of his sea-birth. Do +you like the name?" asked her father. + +Constance shook her head. "Not a whit," she said, "for it sounds like a +heathen god, and that I do not like, though my stepmother is a stricter +Puritan than are you and I. I would love another Stephen Hopkins. But if +it must be Oceanus--well, I'll try to make it a smooth ocean for the +little fellow, his life with us, I mean." + +"Shall we go below to see him? I will carry Damaris," said Mr. Hopkins, +rising, and offering Constance his hand, at the same time shifting her +burden to himself. + +Damaris whined and burrowed into her father's shoulder, half waking. +Constance stumbled and fell laughing, to her knees, numb from long +sitting with the child's weight upon them. + +At the door of the cabin they met Doctor Fuller, who paused to look long +and steadily at Constance. + +"You have been saving me work, little mistress," he said, putting a hand +on her shoulder. "Your blithe courage has done more than my physic to +hold off serious trouble in yonder cabin, and your service of hands has +been as helpful. When we get to our new home will you accept the +position of physician's assistant? Will you be my cheerful little +partner, and let us be Samuel Fuller and Company, physicians and +surgeons to the worshipful company of pilgrims in the New World?" + +Constance dropped a curtsey as well as the narrow space allowed. She, as +well as all the rest of the ship's company, loved and trusted this kind +young doctor who had left his wife and child to follow him later, and +was crossing the seas with the pilgrims as the minister to their +suffering bodies. + +"Indeed, Doctor Fuller, I will accept the office, though it will make me +so proud that I shall be turned out of the community as unfit to be part +of it," she cried. + + * * * * * + +There followed after this long days of bleak endurance, the cold +increasing, the storms raging. For days at a time the _Mayflower_ lay +to, stripped of all sail, floating in currents, thrown up on high, +driven nose down into an apparently bottomless pit, the least of man's +work cut off from man's natural life, left to herself in the desert of +waters, packed with the humanity that crowded her. + +Yet through it all the men and women she bore did not lose heart, but +beneath the overwhelming misery of their condition kept alive the sense +of God's sustaining providence and personal direction. + +Thus it was not strange that the little ship and her company proved +stronger than the wintry storms, that she survived and, once more +hoisting sail, kept on her westerly course. + +It was November; for two months and more the _Mayflower_ had sailed and +drifted, but now there were signs that the hazardous voyage was nearly +over. + +"Come on deck, Con! Come on deck!" shouted Giles Hopkins. "All hands on +deck for the first glimpse of land! They think 'twill soon be seen." + +Pale, weak, but quivering with joy, the pilgrims gathered on the +_Mayflower's_ decks. + +Rose Standish was but the shadow of her sweet self. Constance lingered +to give the final touches to Rose's toilette; they were all striving to +make some little festal appearance to their garments suitably to greet +the New World. + +"I can hardly go up, dear Connie," murmured Rose. "The _Mayflower_ hath +taken all the vigour from this poor rose." + +"When the mayflower goes, the rose blooms," said Constance. "Wait till +we get ashore and you are in your own warm, cozy home!" + +Rose shook her head, but made an effort to greet Captain Myles brightly +as he came to help her to the deck. + +"What land are we to see, Myles? Where are we?" she asked. + +"Gosnold's country of Cape Cod, rose of the world," said Captain Myles. +"It lies just ahead. Have a care, Constance; don't trip. Here we are, +then!" + +They took their places in a sheltered nook and waited. The Billington +boys had clambered high aloft and no one reproved them. Though their +pranks were always calling forth a reprimand from some one, this time no +one blamed them, but rather envied them for getting where they could see +land first of all. + +Sharply Francis Billington's boyish voice rang out: + +"Land! Land! Land!" he shouted. + +It was but an instant before the entire company of pilgrims were on +their knees, sobbing, chanting, praising, each in his own way, the God +who had brought their pilgrimage to this end. + +That night they tacked southward, looking for Hudson's river, but the +sea was so rough, the shoals around the promontories southward so +dangerous, that they gave over the quest and turned back. + +The next day the sun shone with the brilliant glory of winter upon the +sea, and upon the low-lying coast, as the _Mayflower_ came into her +harbour. + +"Father, it is the New World!" cried Constance, clasping her father's +arm in spite of the tiny _Mayflower_ baby which she held. + +"The New World it is, friend Stephen. Now to conquer it!" said Myles +Standish, clapping Mr. Hopkins on the shoulder and touching his sword +hilt with the other hand. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +Weary Waiting at the Gates + + +"Call Giles hither. I need help to strap these blankets to carry safely, +Mr. Hopkins," said Dame Eliza Hopkins, bustling up to her husband two +hours after the _Mayflower_ had made anchorage. + +"To carry whither, wife?" asked Mr. Hopkins, with the amused smile that +always irritated his excitable wife by its detached calmness. + +"Will you not need the blankets at night? Truth to tell this Cape Cod +air seems to me well fit for blankets." + +"And for what other use should they be carried ashore? Or would they +keep us warm left on the ship?" demanded Mistress Eliza. "Truly, Stephen +Hopkins, you are a test of the patience of a saint!" + +"Which needs no testing, since the patience of the saints has passed +into a proverb," commented Stephen Hopkins. "But with all humility I +would answer 'yes' to your question, _Eliza_: the blankets would surely +keep you warmer when on the ship than if they were ashore, since it is +on the ship that you are to remain." + +"Remain! On the ship? For how long, pray? And why? Do you not think that +I have had enough and to spare of this ship after more than two months +within her straitened cabin, and Oceanus crying, poor child, and wearing +upon me as if he felt the hardship of his birthplace? Nor is Mistress +White's baby, Peregrine, happier than my child in being born on this +_Mayflower_. When one is not crying, the other is and oftener than not +in concert. Why should I not go ashore with the others?" demanded +Mistress Eliza, in quick anger. + +"Ah, wife, wife, my poor Eliza," sighed Mr. Hopkins, raising his hand to +stem the torrent. "Leave not all the patience of the saints to those in +paradise! You, with all the other women, will remain on the ship while +certain of the men--the rest being left to guard you--go in the shallop +to explore our new country and pick the fittest place for our +settlement. How long we may be gone, I do not know. Rest assured it will +not be an absence wilfully prolonged. You will be more comfortable here +than ashore. It is likely that when you do go ashore to begin the new +home you will look back regretfully at the straitened quarters of the +little ship that has served us well, in spite of sundry weaknesses which +she developed. Be that as it may, this delay is necessary, as reflection +will show you, so let us not weary ourselves with useless discussion of +it." + +Mistress Hopkins knew that when her husband spoke in this manner, +discussion of his decision was indeed useless. She had an awe of his +wisdom, his amused toleration of her, of his superior birth and +education, and, though she ventured to goad him in small affairs, when +it came to greater ones she dared not dispute him. So now she bit her +lip, as angry and disappointed tears sprang to her eyes, but did not +reply. + +Stephen Hopkins produced from his inner pocket an oblong packet sewn in +an oilskin wrapper. + +"Here, Eliza," he said, "are papers of value to this expedition, +together with some important only to ourselves, but to us sufficiently +so to guard them carefully. The public papers were entrusted to me just +before we sailed from Southampton by one interested in the welfare of +this settlement. My own papers relate to the English inheritance that +will be my children's should they care to claim it. These papers I must +leave in your care now that I am to go on this exploring party ashore. I +will not risk carrying them where savages might attack us, though I have +kept them upon me throughout the voyage. Guard them well. Not for worlds +would I lose the papers relating to the community, sorry as I should be +to lose my own, for those were a trust, and personal loss would be +nothing compared to the loss of them." + +He handed the packet to his wife as he spoke and she took it, turning it +curiously over and about. + +"I hope the English inheritance will one day come to Damaris and +Oceanus," she said, bitterly, her jealousy of the two children of her +husband's first wife plain to be seen. "Here's Giles," she added, +hastily thrusting the packet into her bosom with a violence that her +husband noted and wondered at. + +"Father," said Giles, coming up, "take me with you." + +Gloom and discontent were upon his brow. Giles's face was fast growing +into a settled expression of bitterness. His stepmother's dislike for +him, and for his sister, Giles bore less well than Constance. The +natural sweetness of the girl, her sunny hopefulness, led her +ceaselessly to try to make things pleasant around her, to be always +ready to forget and begin again, hoping that at last she might win her +stepmother's kindness. But Giles never forgot, consequently never could +hope that the bad situation would mend, and he returned Mistress Eliza's +dislike with compound interest. He was a brave lad, capable of strong +attachments, but the bitterness that he harboured, the unhappiness of +his home life, were doing him irreparable harm. His father was keenly +alive to this fact, and one of his motives in coming to the New World +with the Puritans, with whose strict views he by no means fully +sympathized, was to give Giles the opportunity to conquer the +wilderness, and in conquering it to find a vent for his energy, +happiness for himself. + +Mr. Hopkins turned to the boy now and sighed, seeing that he had heard +his stepmother's expression of hope that _her_ children would receive +their father's English patrimony. But he said only: + +"Take you with me where, Giles?" + +"Exploring the country. I am too old, too strong to stay here with the +women and children. Besides, I want to go," said Giles, shortly. + +"But few of the men are to go, my son; you will not be reckoned among +the weaklings in staying," said Mr. Hopkins, laying his hand upon the +boy's shoulder with a smile that Giles did not return. "Enough have +volunteered; Captain Standish has made up his company. You are best here +and will find enough to do. Have you thought that you are my eldest, and +that if we met with savages, or other fatal onslaught, that you must +take my place? I cannot afford to risk both of us at once. You are my +reliance and successor, Giles lad." + +The boy's sullen face broke into a piteous smile; he flushed and looked +into his father's eyes with a glance that revealed for an instant the +dominant passion of his life, his adoring love for his father. + +Then he dropped his lids, veiling the light that he himself was +conscious shone in them. + +"Very well, If you want me to stay, stay it is. But I'd like to go. And +if there is danger, why not let me take your place? I should not know as +much as you, but I would obey the captain's orders, and I am as strong +as you are. Better let me go if there's any chance of not returning," he +said. + +"Your valuable young life for mine, my boy? Hardly that!" said Stephen +Hopkins with a comradely arm thrown across the boy. "I shall always be a +piece of drift from the old shore; you will grow from your youth into +the New World's life. And what would my remnant of life be to me if my +eldest born had purchased it?" + +"You are young enough, Father," began Giles, struggling not to show +that the expression of his father's love moved him as it did. + +Mistress Eliza, who had been watching and listening to what was said +with scornful impatience, broke in. + +"Let the lad go. He will not be helpful here, and your little children +need your protection, not to speak of your wife, Mr. Hopkins." + +At the first syllable Giles had hastened away. Stephen Hopkins turned on +her. "The boy is more precious than I am. It is settled; he is to stay. +Take great care of the packet I have entrusted to you," he said. + +For four days the ship's carpenters had busied themselves in putting +together and making ready the shallop which the _Mayflower_ had carried +for the pilgrims to use in sailing the shallow waters of the bays and +rivers of the new land, to discover the spot upon which they should +decide to make their beginning. + +The small craft was ready now, and in the morning set out, taking a +small band of the men who had crossed on the _Mayflower_, as much +ammunition and provisions as her capacity allowed them, to proceed no +one knew whither, to encounter no one knew what. + +Constance stood wistfully, anxiously, watching the prim white sail +disappear. + +Humility Cooper and Elizabeth Tilley--the cousins, who, though +Constance's age, seemed so much younger--and Priscilla Mullins--who +though older, seemed but Constance's age--were close beside her, and, +seated on a roll of woollen cloth, sat Rose Standish, drooping as now +she always drooped, often coughing, watching with her unnaturally clear +eyes, as the girls watched, the departure of the little craft that bore +their beloved protectors away. + +The country that lay before them looked "wild and weather-beaten." All +that they could see was woods and more woods, stretching westward to +meet the bleak November sky, hiding who could say what dangers of wild +beasts and yet more-savage men? + +Behind them lay the heaving ocean, dark under the scudding clouds, and +which they had just sailed for two months of torture of body and mind. + +If the little shallop were but sailing toward one single friend, if +there were but one friendly English-built house beside whose hearth the +adventurers might warm themselves after a handclasp of welcome! +Desolation and still more desolation behind and before them! What awful +secrets did that low-lying, mysterious coast conceal? What could the +future hold for this handful of pilgrims who were to grapple without +human aid with the cruelties of a severe clime, of preying creatures, +both beast and human? + +Rose Standish's head bent low as the tipmost point of the shallop's mast +rounded a promontory, till it rested on her knees and her thin +shoulders heaved. Instantly Constance was on her knees before her, +gently forcing Rose's hands from her face and drawing her head upon her +shoulder. + +"There, there!" Constance crooned as if to a baby. "There, there, sweet +Rose! What is it, what is it?" + +"Oh, if I knew he would ever come back! Oh, if I knew how to go on, how, +how to go on!" Rose sobbed. + +"Captain Myles come back!" cried Constance, with a laugh that she was +delighted to hear sounded genuine. + +"Why, silly little Rose Standish, don't you know nothing could keep the +captain from coming back? Wouldn't it be a sorry day for an Indian, or +for any beast, when he attacked our right arm of the colony? No fear of +him not coming back to us! And how to go on, is that it? In your own +cozy little house, with Prissy and the rest of us to help you look after +it till you are strong again, and then the fair spring sunshine, and the +salt winds straight from home blowing upon you, and you will not need to +know how to go on! It will be the rest of us who will have to learn how +to keep up with you!" + +"Kind Constance," whispered Rose, stroking the girl's cheek and looking +wistfully into her eyes as she dried her own. "You keep me up, though +you are so young! Not for nothing were you named Constantia, for +constant indeed you are! I will be good, and not trouble you. Usually I +feel sure that I shall get well, but to-day--seeing Myles go----. +Sometimes it comes over me with terrible certainty that it is not for me +to see this wilderness bloom." + +"Just tiredness, dear one," said Constance, lovingly, and as if she were +a whole college of learned physicians. "Have no fear." + +Mistress Hopkins came in search of them, carrying the baby Oceanus with +manifest protest against his weight and wailing. + +"I have been looking for you, Constantia," she said, as if this were a +severe accusation against the girl. "You are to take this child. Have I +not enough to do and to put up with that I must be worn threadbare by +his crying? And what a country! Your father has been tormenting me with +his mending and preparation for this expedition so that I have not seen +it as it is until just now. Look at it, only look at it! What a place to +bring a decent woman to who has never wanted! Though I may not have been +the fine lady that his first wife was, yet am I a comfortable farmer's +daughter, and Stephen Hopkins should not have brought me to a coast more +bleak and dismal than the barrens of Sahara. Woods, nothing but woods! +And full of lions, and tigers, and who knows what other raving, raging +wild vermin--who knows? What does thy father mean by bringing me to +this?" + +Constance pressed her lips together hard, a burning crimson flooding her +face as she took the baby violently thrust upon her and straightened his +disordered wrappings, reminding herself that his mother was not his +fault. + +"Why as to that, Mistress Hopkins," said Priscilla Mullins in her +downright, sensible way, "Mr. Hopkins did not bring you. We all came +willingly, and I make no doubt that all of us knew quite well that it +was a wilderness to which we were bound." + +"There is knowing and knowing, Priscilla Mullins, and the knowing before +seeing is a different thing from the knowing and seeing. Stephen Hopkins +had been about the world; he even set sail for Virginia, which as I +understand is somewhere not far from Cape Cod, though not near enough to +give us neighbours for the borrowing of a salt rising, or the trade of a +recipe, or the loan of a croup simple should my blessed babe turn +suffocating as he is like to do in this wicked cold wind; and these +things are the comforts of a woman's life, and her right--as all good +women will tell thee before thou art old enough to know what the lack is +in this desolation. So it is clear that Stephen Hopkins had no right to +bring me here, innocent as I was of what it all stood for, and hard +enough as it is to be married to a man whose first wife was of the +gentry, and whose children that she left for my torment are like to her, +headstrong and proud-stomached, and hating me, however I slave for them. +And your father, Constantia Hopkins, has gone now, not content with +bringing me here across that waste o' waters, and never is it likely +will come back to me to look after that innocent babe that was born on +the ocean and bears its name according, and came like the dove to the +ark, bearing an olive branch across the deluge. But much your father +cares for this, but has gone and left me, and it is no man's part to +leave a weak woman to struggle alone to keep wild beasts and Indians +from devouring her children; and so I tell you, and so I maintain. And +never, never have I looked upon a scene so forsaken and unbearable as +that gray woodland that the man who swore to cherish me has led me +into." + +Constance quite well knew that this hysterical unreason in her +stepmother would pass, and that it was not more worth heeding than the +wind that whistled around the ship's stripped masts. Mistress Eliza had +a vixenish temper, and a jealous one. She frequently lashed herself into +a fury with one or another of the family for its object and felt the +better for it, not regarding how it left the victim feeling. + +But though she knew this, Constance could not always act upon her +knowledge, and disregard her. She was but a very young girl and now she +was a very weary one, with every nerve quivering from tense anxiety in +watching her father go into unknown danger. + +She sprang to her feet with a cry. + +"Oh, my father, my father! How dare you blame him, my patient, wise, +forbearing father! Why did he bring you here, indeed! He--so fine, so +noble, so hard-pressed with your tongue, Mistress Hopkins!--I will not +hear you blame him. Oh, my father, my dear, dear, good father!" she +sobbed, losing all sense of restraint in her grief. + +Suddenly on hearing this outburst, Mistress Hopkins, as is sometimes the +way of such as she, became as self-controlled as she had, but a moment +before, been beside herself. And in becoming quiet she became much more +angry than she had been, and more vindictive. + +"You speak to me like this?--you dare to!" she said in a low, furious +voice. "You will learn to your sorrow what it means to flout me. You +will pay for this, Constantia Hopkins, and pay to the last penny, to +your everlasting shame and misery." + +Constance was too frightened by this change, by this white fury, which +she had never seen before in her stepmother, to answer; but before she +could have answered, Doctor Fuller, who had strayed that way in time to +hear the last of Dame Eliza's tirade, Constance's retort, and this final +threat, took Constance by the arm and led her away. + +"Quiet, my dear, quiet and calm, you know! Don't let yourself forget +what is due to your father's wife, to yourself, still more to your +conscience," he warned her. "And remember that a soft answer turneth +away wrath." + +"Oh, it doesn't, Doctor Fuller, indeed it doesn't!" sobbed Constance, +utterly unstrung. "I've tried it, tried it again and again, and it only +makes the wrath turn the harder upon me; it never turns it away! Indeed, +indeed I've faithfully tried it." + +"It's a hard pilgrimage for you at times I fear, Constance, but never +turn aside into wrong on your part," said the good doctor, gently. + +"Oh, I'm sorry I flared up, I am sorry I spoke angrily. But my father! +To blame him when he is so patient, and has so much to endure! Must I +beg his wife's pardon?" said Constance, humbly. + +Doctor Fuller concealed a smile. Sorry as he was for Constance, and +indignant at her stepmother's unkindness, it amused him to note how +completely in her thoughts Constance separated herself from the least +connection with her. + +"I think it would be the better course, my dear, and I admire you for +being the one to suggest it," he answered, with an encouraging pat on +Constance's sleeve. + +"Well, I will. I mean to do what is right, and I will," Constance +sighed. "But I truly think it will do no good," she added. + +"Nor I," Doctor Fuller agreed with her in his thoughts, but he took good +care not to let this opinion reach his lips. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +The First Yuletide + + +Constance had a tender conscience, quick to self-blame. She was unhappy +if she could impute to herself a fault, ill at ease till she had done +all that she could to repair wrong. Although her stepmother's dislike +for her, still more her open expression of it, was cruelly unjust and +prevented all possibility of love for her, still Constance deeply +regretted having spoken to her with lack of respect. + +But when she made humble apology for the fault and begged Mrs. Hopkins's +pardon with sweet sincerity, she was received in a manner that turned +contrition into bitterness. + +Dame Eliza looked at her with a cold light in her steely blue eyes, and +a scornful smile. Plainly she was too petty herself to understand +generosity in others, and construed Constance's apology into a +confession of fear of her. + +"Poor work spreading bad butter over a burnt crust," she commented. +"There's no love lost between us, Constantia Hopkins; maybe none ever +found, nor ever will be. I don't want your fair words, nor need you hope +your father will not one day see you, and that sullen brother of yours, +as do I. So waste no breath trying to get around me. Damaris is +fretting; look after her." + +Poor Constance! She had been so honestly sorry for having been angry and +having given vent to it, had gone to her stepmother with such sincerity, +hoping against hope, for the unnumbered time, that she could make their +relation pleasanter! It was not possible to help feeling a violent +reaction from this reception, to keep her scorned sweetness from turning +to bitterness in her heart. + +She told the story to Giles, and it made him furiously angry. + +"You young ninny to humble yourself to her," he cried, with flashing +eyes. "Will you never learn to expect nothing but injustice from her? It +isn't what we do, or say; it is jealousy. She will not let our father +love us, she hates the children of our mother, and hates our mother's +memory, that she was in every way Mistress Eliza's superior, as she +guesses, knowing that she was better born, better bred, and surely +better in character. I remember our mother, Con, if not clearly. I'm +sorry you have not even so much recollection of her. You are like her, +and may be thankful for it. I could trounce you for crawling to Mistress +Hopkins! Learn your lesson for all time, and no more apologies! Con, I +shall not stand it! No matter how it goes with this colony, I shall go +back to England. I will not stay to be put upon, to see my father turned +from me." + +"Oh, Giles, that could never be!" cried Constance. "Father will never +turn from us." + +"I did not say from _us_; I said from _me_," retorted Giles. "You are +different, a girl, and--and like Mother, and--several other reasons. But +I often see that Father is not sure whether he shall approve me or not. +It will not be so long till I am twenty-one, then I shall get out of +reach of these things." + +Constance's troubled face brightened. To her natural hopefulness Giles's +twenty-first birthday was far enough away to allow a great deal of good +to come before it. + +"Oh, twenty-one, Giles! You'll be prospering and happy here before +that," she cried. + +"But I must tell no more of troubles with my stepmother to Giles," she +added mentally. "It will never do to pile fuel on his smouldering +fires!" + +The next day when Constance was helping Mistress Hopkins with her +mending, she noticed the oilskin-wrapped packet that her father had left +with his wife for safe keeping, tossed carelessly upon the hammock which +swung from the side of the berth which she and her stepmother shared, +the bed devised by ingenuity for little Damaris. + +"Is not that packet in Damaris's hammock Father's packet of valuable +papers?" Constance asked. "Is there not a risk in letting them lie +about, so highly as he prizes them?" + +She made the suggestion timidly, for Dame Eliza did not take kindly to +hints of this nature. To her surprise her stepmother received her remark +not merely pleasantly, but almost eagerly, quick with self-reproach. + +"Indeed thou art right, Constantia, and I am wrong to leave it for an +instant outside the strong chest, where I shall put it under lock and +key," she said, nevertheless not moving to rescue it. "I have carried +it tied around my neck by a silken cord and hidden in my bosom till this +hour past. I dropped it there when I was trying to mend Damaris's +hammock. Thanks to you for reminding me of it. What can ail that hammock +defies me! I have tried in all ways to strengthen it, but it sags. Some +night the child will take a bad fall from it. Try you what you can make +of it, Constantia." + +"I am not skilful, Stepmother," smiled Constance. "Giles is just outside +studying the chart of our voyage hither. Let me call him to repair the +hammock. We would not have you fall at night and crack the pretty golden +pate, would we, Damaris?" The child shook her "golden pate" hard. + +"That you would not, Connie, for you are good, good to me!" she cried. + +Mistress Hopkins looked on the little girl with somewhat of softening of +her stern lips, yet she felt called upon to reprimand this lightness of +speech. + +"Not 'Connie,' Damaris, as thou hast been often enough told. We do not +hold with the ungodly manner of nicknames. Thy sister is Constantia, and +so must thou call her. And you must not put into the child's head +notions of its being pretty, Constantia. Beauty is a snare of the devil, +and vanity is his weapon to ensnare the soul. Do not let me hear you +again speak to a child of mine of her pretty golden pate. As to the +hammock if you choose to call your brother to repair it for his +half-sister I have nothing against the plan." + +Constance jumped up and ran out of the cabin. + +"Giles, Giles, will you come to try what you can do with Damaris's +sleeping hammock?" she called. + +"What's wrong with it?" demanded Giles, rising reluctantly, but +following Constance, nevertheless. + +"I don't know, but Mistress Hopkins says she cannot repair it and that +the child is like to fall with its breaking some night," said Constance, +entering again the small, close cabin of the women. "Here is Giles, +Mistress Hopkins; he will try what he can do," she added. + +Giles examined the hammock in silence, bade Constance bring him cord, +and at last let it swing back into place, and straightened himself. He +had been bent over the canvas with it drawn forward against his breast. + +"I see nothing the matter with the hammock except a looseness of its +cords, and perhaps weakness of one where I put in the new one. You could +have mended it, Con," he said, ungraciously, and sensitive Constance +flushed at the implication that her stepmother had not required his +help, for she never could endure anything like a disagreeable atmosphere +around her. + +"Giles says 'Con,'" observed Damaris, justifying herself for the use of +nicknames. + +"Giles does many things that we do not approve; let us hope he will not +lead his young sister and brother into evil ways," returned her mother, +sourly. "But thou shouldst thank him when he does thee a service, not to +be deficient on thy side in virtue." + +"You know Giles doesn't need thanks for what he does for small people, +don't you, Hop-o-my-Thumb?" Giles said and departed, successful in both +his aims, in pleasing the child by his name for her, and displeasing her +mother. + +Two hours later Constance was sitting rolled up in heavy woollens like a +cocoon well forward of the main mast, in a sheltered nook, reading to +Rose Standish, who was also wrapped to her chin, and who when she was in +the open, seemed to find relief from the oppression that made breathing +so hard a matter to her. + +Mistress Hopkins came toward them in furious haste, her mouth open as if +she were panting, one hand pressed against her breast. + +"Constantia, confess, confess, and do not try to shield thy wicked +brother!" she cried. + +[Illustration: "'Constantia, confess--confess and do not try to shield +thy wicked brother'"] + +"Confess! My wicked brother? Do you mean the baby, for you cannot mean +Giles?" Constance said, springing to her feet. + +"That lamb of seven weeks! Indeed, you impudent girl, I mean no such +thing, as well you know, but that dreadful, sin-enslaved, criminal, +Gile----" + +"Hush!" cried Constance, "I will not hear you!" + +There was a fire in her eyes that made even Mistress Eliza halt in her +speech. + +"Giles Hopkins has stolen your father's packet, the packet of papers +which you saw in the hammock and reminded me to put away," she said, +more quietly. "I shall leave him to be dealt with by your father who +must soon return. But you, you! Can you clear yourself? Did you help him +steal it? Nay, did you call him in for this purpose, warning him that he +should find the packet there, and to take it? Is this a plan between +you? For ever have I said that there was that in you two that curdled my +blood with fear for you of what you should become. Not like your godly +father are you two. From elsewhere have you drawn the blood that poisons +you. Confess and I will ask your father to spare you." + +Constance stood with her thick wrappings falling from her as she threw +up her hands in dumb appeal against this unbearable thing. She was white +as the dead, but her blue eyes burned black in the whiteness, full of +intense life. + +"Mistress Hopkins, oh, Mistress Hopkins, consider!" begged Rose +Standish, also rising in great distress. "Think what it is that you are +saying, and to whom! You cannot knowingly accuse this dear girl of +connivance in a theft! You cannot accuse Giles of committing it! Why, +Captain Myles is fonder of the lad than of any other in our company! +Giles is upright and true, he says, and fearless. Pray, pray, take +back these fearful words! You do not mean them, and when you will long +to disown them they will cling to you and not forsake you, as does our +mad injustice, to our lasting sorrow. What can be more foreign to our +calling than harsh judgments, and angry accusations?" + +"I am not speaking rashly, Mistress Standish," insisted Dame Eliza. + +"Not yet three hours gone Constantia saw lying in Damaris's hammock a +valuable packet of papers, left me in trust by her father. I asked her +to mend the hammock, which was in disorder, but she called her brother +to do the simple task. No one else hath entered the cabin at my end of +it since. The packet is gone. Would you have more proof? Could there be +more proof, unless you saw the theft committed, which is manifestly +impossible?" + +"But why, good mistress, should the boy and girl steal these papers? +What reason would there be for them to disturb their father's property?" +asked Rose Standish. + +"I have heard my uncle say, who is a barrister at home, that one must +search for the motive of a crime if it is to be established." She +glanced with a slight smile at Constance's stony face, who neither +looked at her, nor smiled, but stood gazing in wide-eyed horror at her +stepmother. + +"Precisely!" triumphed Dame Eliza. "Two motives are clear, Mistress +Standish, to those who are not too blinded by prejudice to see. Those +Hopkins girl and boy hate me, fear and grudge my influence with their +father. Would they not like to weaken it by the loss of papers entrusted +to me, a loss that he would resent on his return? There is one motive. +As to the other: you do not know, but I do, and so did they, that part +of these papers related to an inheritance in England, from which they +would want their half-brother and sister excluded. Needs it more?" + +"Yes, yes, yes!" cried Rose Standish, as Constance groaned. "To any one +knowing Giles and Constance this is no more than if you said Fee, fi, +fo, fum! They plotting to weaken you with their father! They stealing to +keep the children from a share in their inheritance, so generous as they +are, so good to the little ones! Fie, Mistress Hopkins! It is a grievous +sin, you who are so strict in small matters, a grievous sin thus to +judge another, still more those to whom you owe the obligation of one +who has taken their dead mother's place." + +Constance began to tremble, and to struggle to speak. What she would +have said, or what would have come of it, cannot be known, for at that +moment the Billington boys, John and Francis, came hurtling down upon +them, shouting: + +"The shallop, the shallop is back! It is almost upon us on the other +side. Come see, come see! Dad is back, and all the rest, unless the +savages have killed some of them," Francis added the final words in +solo. + +The present trouble must be laid aside for the great business in hand of +welcome. + +Poor Constance turned in a frozen way to follow Rose and her stepmother +to the other side of the ship. + +Her father--her dear, dear, longed-for father--was come back. He might +be bringing them news of a favoured site where they would go to begin +their new home. + +At last they were to step upon land again, to live in some degree the +life they knew of household task and tilling, walking the woods, drawing +water, building fires--the life so long postponed, for which they all +thirsted. + +But if she and Giles were to meet their father accused of theft! If they +should see in those grave, kind, wise eyes a shadow of a doubt of his +eldest children! Constance felt that she dared not see him come if such +a thing were so much as possible. + +But when the shallop was made fast beside the _Mayflower_ and Constance +saw her father boarding the ship among the others of the returning +expedition, and she met the glad light in his eyes resting upon her, all +fear was swallowed up in immense relief and joy. + +With a low cry she sprang to meet him and fell sobbing on his shoulder, +forgetful of the stern on-lookers who would condemn such display of +feeling. + +"Oh, father, father, if you had never come back!" she murmured. + +"But I have come, daughter!" Stephen Hopkins reminded her. "Surely you +are not weeping that I have come! We have great things to tell you, +attacks by savages, some hardships, but we have brought grain which we +found hidden by the Indians, and we have found the right place to +establish our dwelling." + +Constance raised her head and dried her eyes, still shaken by sobs. Her +father looked keenly at the pale, drawn face, and knew that something +more than ordinary lay behind the overwhelming emotion with which she +had received him. + +"Poor child, poor motherless child!" he thought, and the pity of that +moment went far in influencing his subsequent treatment of Constance +when he learned what had ailed her on his arrival. + +Now he patted her shoulder and turned toward the middle of the ship's +forward deck where his comrades of the expedition were relating their +experiences, and displaying their trophies. + +Golden corn lay on the deck, spread upon a cloth, and the pilgrims who +had remained with the ship were handling it as they listened to John +Alden, who was made the narrator of this first report, having a ready +tongue. + +"We found a pond of fresh water," he was saying, "and not far from it +cleared ground with the stubble of a gathered harvest upon it. Judge +whether or not the sight was pleasant to us, as promising of fertile +lands when the forests were hewn. And we came upon planks of wood that +had lately been a house, and a kettle, and heaps of sand, with handmarks +upon it, not long since made, where the sand had been piled and pressed +down, into which, digging rapidly, we penetrated and found the corn you +see here. The part of it we took, but the rest we once more covered and +left it. And see ye, brethren, there have we the seed for our own next +season's harvest, the which we were in such doubt of obtaining from home +in time. It is a story for night, when we have leisure, to tell you of +how we saw a few men and a dog, who ran from us, and we pursuing, hoping +to speak to them, but they escaped us. And how later on, we saw savages +cutting up great fish of tremendous size along the coast, and how we +were attacked by another savage band one night. But all this we reserve +for another telling. We came at last into a harbour and found it deep +enough for the _Mayflower_ on our sounding it. And landing we marched +into the land and found fields, and brooks, and on the whole that it +was a fit country for our beginning. For the rest it is as you shall +decide in consultation, but of our party we are all in accord to urge +you to accept this spot and hasten to take possession of it as the +winter cometh on apace." + +"Let us thank God for that He hath led us into a land of corn, and +guided us for so many weary days, over so many dreary miles," said +William Brewster, the elder of the pilgrims. + +John Carver, who was chosen on the _Mayflower_ as their governor, arose +and out of a full heart thanked God for His mercies, as Elder Brewster +had recommended. + +The _Mayflower_ weighed anchor in the morning to carry her brave freight +to their new home. The wind set hard against her, and it was the second +day before she entered Plymouth harbour, as they resolved to name their +new habitation, a name already bestowed by Captain Smith, and the name +of their final port of embarkation in England. + +No sign of life met them as the pilgrims disembarked. Silently, with +full realization of what lay before them, and how fraught with +significance this beginning was, the pilgrims passed from the ship that +had so long been their home, and set foot--men, women, and +children--upon the soil of America. + +A deep murmur arose when the last person was landed, and it happened +that Constance Hopkins was the last to step from the boat to the rock +on which the landing was made, and to jump light-heartedly to the sand, +amid the tall, dried weeds that waved on the shore. + +"Praise God from whom all blessings flow," said Elder Brewster, +solemnly. The pilgrim band of colonists sang the doxology with bowed +heads. + +Three days later the shores of the harbour echoed to the ring of axes, +the sound of hammers, as the first house was begun, the community house, +destined to shelter many families and to store their goods. + +"Merry Christmas, Father!" said Constance, coming up to her father in +the cold of the early bleak December morning. + +"S-s-sh!" warned her father, finger upon lip. "Do you not know, my +daughter, that the keeping of Christmas is abjured by us as savouring of +popery, and that to wish one merry at yuletide would be reckoned as +unrighteousness among us?" + +"Ah, but Father, you do not think so! You do not go with all these +opinions, and can it be wrong to be merry on the day that gladdened the +world?" Constance pleaded. + +"Not wrong, but praiseworthy, to be merry under our present condition, +to my way of thinking," said Stephen Hopkins, glancing around at the +drab emptiness of land and sky and harbour beyond. "Nay, child, I do +not think it wrong to rejoice at Christmas, nor do I hold with the +severity of most of our people, but because I believe that it will be +good to begin anew in a land that is not oppressed, nor torn by +king-made wars and sins, I have cast my lot, as has Myles Standish, who +is of one mind with me, among this Plymouth band, and we must conform +to custom. So wish me Merry Christmas, if you will, but let none hear +you, and we will keep our heresies to ourselves." + +"Yet the first house in the New World is begun to-day!" laughed +Constance. "We are getting a Christmas gift." + +"A happy portent to begin our common home on the day when the Prince of +Peace came to dwell on earth! Let us hope it will bring us peace," said +her father. + +"Peace!" cried Constance, with a swift and terrified remembrance of the +accusation which her stepmother had threatened bringing against herself +and Giles. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +The New Year in the New Land + + +The new year came in bringing with it a driving storm from the Atlantic. +The hoary pines threw up their rugged branches as if appealing to the +heavens for mercy on the women and little children without shelter on +the desolate coast. But the gray heavens did not relent; they poured +snow and sleet down upon the infant colony, coating the creaking pines +with ice that bent them low, and checked their intercession. + +As fast as willing hands could work, taking it in continuous shifts by +night as well as day, the community house went up. But the storm was +upon the colonists before the shelter was ready for them, and even when +the roof covered them, the cold laughed it to scorn, entering to wreak +its will upon them. + +Sickness seized one after another of the pilgrim band, men and women +alike, and the little children fought croup and pneumonia, nursed by +women hardly more fit for the task than were the little victims. + +Rose Standish, already weakened by the suffering of the voyage, was +among the first to be prostrated. She coughed ceaselessly though each +violent breath wracked her frail body with pain. A bright colour burned +in her cheeks, her beautiful eyes were clear and dilated, she smiled +hopefully when her companions in exile and suffering spoke to her, and +assured them that she was "much, much better," speaking pantingly, by an +effort. + +The discouragement with which she had looked upon the coast when the +_Mayflower_ arrived, gave place to hope in her. She spoke confidently of +"next spring," of the "house Captain Myles would build her," of all that +she should do "when warm weather came." + +Constance, to whom she most confided her plans, often turned away to +hide her tears. She knew that Doctor Fuller and the more experienced +women thought that for this English rose there would be no springtime +upon earth. + +Constance had other troubles to bear as well as the hardships and +sorrows common to the sorely beset community. She seemed, to herself, +hardly to be a young girl, so heavily weighted was she with the burden +that she carried. She wondered to remember that if she had stayed in +England she should have been laughing and singing like other girls of +her age, skating now on the Sherbourne, if it were frozen over, as it +well might be. Perhaps she might be dancing, if she were visiting her +cousins in Warwickshire, her own birthplace, for the cousins were merry +girls, and like all of Constance's mother's family, quite free from +puritanical ideas, brought up in the English Church, so not debarred +from the dance. + +Constance had no heart to regret her loss of youthful happiness; she was +so far aloof from it, so sad, that she could not rise to the level of +feeling its charm. Dame Eliza Hopkins had carried out her threat, had +accused Giles of the theft of his father's papers, and Constance of +being party to his wrong-doing, if not actually its instigator. + +It had only happened that morning; Constance heavily awaited +developments. She jumped guiltily when she heard her father's voice +speaking her name, and felt his hand upon her shoulder. + +She faced him, white and shaken, to meet his troubled eyes intently +fastened upon her. + +"The storm is bad, Constance, but it is not warm within. Put on your +coat and come with me. I must speak with you," he said. + +In silence Constance obeyed him. Pulling over her head a hood that, like +a deep cowl, was attached to her coat, she followed her father into the +storm, and walked beside him toward the marshy shore whither, without +speaking to her, he strode. + +Arrived at the sedgy ocean line he halted, and turned upon her. + +"Constance," he began, sternly, "my wife tells me that valuable papers +which I entrusted to her keeping have disappeared. She tells me further +that she had dropped them--carelessly, as I have told her--into the +hammock in which your little sister slept and that you saw them there, +commenting upon it; that you soon called Giles to set right some slight +matter in the hammock; and that shortly after you and he had left her, +she discovered her loss. What do you know of this? Tell me all that you +know, and tell me the truth." + +Constance's fear left her at this word. Throwing up her head she looked +her father in the eyes, nearly on a level with her own as she stood upon +a sandy hummock. "It needs not telling me to speak the truth, Father. I +am your daughter and my mother's daughter; it runs not in my blood to +lie," she said. + +Stephen Hopkins touched her arm lightly, a look of relief upon his face. + +"Thank you for that reminder, my girl," he said. "It is true, and Giles +is of the same strain. Know you aught of this misfortune?" + +"Nothing, Father," said Constance. "And because I know nothing whatever +about it, in answering you I have told you all that I have to tell." + +"And Giles----" began her father, but stopped. + +"Nor Giles," Constance repeated, amending his beginning. "Giles is +headstrong, Father, and I fear for him often, but you know that he is +honourable, truth-telling. Would your son _steal_ from you?" + +"But your stepmother says no one entered the cabin after you had left it +before she discovered her loss," insisted Stephen Hopkins. "What am I to +think? What do you think, Constance?" + +"I think that there is an explanation we do not know. I think that my +stepmother hates Giles and me, especially him, as he has the first claim +to the inheritance that she would have for her own children. I think +that she has seized this opportunity to poison you against us," said +Constance, with spirited daring. "Oh, Father, dear, dear Father, do not +let her do this thing!" + +"Nay, child, you are unjust," said her father, gently. "I confess to +Mistress Eliza's jealousy of you, and that there is not great love for +you in her. But, Constance, do you love her, you or Giles? And that she +is not so base as you suspect is shown by the fact that she has delayed +until to-day to tell me of this loss, dreading, as she hath told me, to +put you wrong in my eyes. Fie for shame, Constance, to suspect her of +such outrageous wickedness, she who is, after all, a good woman, as she +sees goodness." + +"Father, if the packet were lost through her carelessness, would you not +blame her? Is it not likely that she would shield herself at our cost, +even if she would not be glad to lower us, as I am sure she would be?" +persisted Constance. + +"Well, well, this is idle talk!" Stephen Hopkins said, impatiently. "The +truth must be sifted out, and suspicions are wrong, as well as useless. +One word before I go to Giles. Upon your sacred honour, Constantia +Hopkins, and by your mother's memory, can you assure me that you know +absolutely nothing of the loss of this packet of papers?" + +"Upon my honour and by my mother's memory, I swear that I do not know so +much as that the packet is lost, except as Mistress Hopkins says that it +is," said Constance. Then with a swift change of tone she begged: + +"Oh, Father, Father, when you go to Giles, be careful, be kind, I pray +you! Giles is unhappy. He is ill content under the injustice we both +bear, but I with a girl's greater submission. He is ready to break all +bounds and he will do so if he feels that you do not trust him, listen +to his enemy's tales against him. Please, please, dear Father, be gentle +with Giles. He loves you as well as I do, but where your distrust of me +would kill me, because I love you, Giles's love for you will turn to +bitterness, if you let him feel that you are half lost to him." + +"Nonsense, Constance," said her father, though kindly, "Giles is a boy +and must be dealt with firmly. It will never do to coddle him, to give +him his head. You are a girl, sensitive and easily wounded. A boy is +another matter. I will not have him setting up his will against mine, +nor opposing discipline for his good. It is for him to clear himself of +what looks ill, not resent our seeing the looks of it." + +Constance almost wrung her hands. + +"Oh, Father, Father, do not go to Giles in that way! Sorrow will come of +it. Think how you would feel to be thus suspected! A boy is not less +sensitive than a girl; I fear he is more sensitive in his honour than +are we. Oh, I am but a girl, but I know that I am right about Giles. I +think we are given to understand as no man can how to deal with a proud, +sullen boy like Giles, because God means us to be the mothers of boys +some day! Be kind to Giles, dear Father; let him see that you trust him, +as indeed, indeed you may!" + +"Let us go back out of the storm to such shelter as we have, Constance," +said Stephen Hopkins, smiling with masculine toleration for a foolish +girl. "I have accepted your solemn assurance that you are ignorant of +this theft, if theft it be. Be satisfied that I have done this, and +leave me to deal with my son as I see fit. I will not be unjust to him, +but he must meet me respectfully, submissively, and answer to the +evidence against him. I have not been pleased of late with Giles's +ill-concealed resistance." + +This time Constance did wring her hands, as she followed her father, +close behind him. She attempted no further remonstrance, knowing that to +do so would be not only to harm Giles's cause, but to arouse her +father's quick anger against herself. But as she walked with bent head +through the cutting, beating storm, she wondered why Giles should not be +resistant to his life, and her heart ached with pitying apprehension for +her brother. + +All that long day of darkening storm and anxiety Constance did not see +Giles. That signified nothing, however, for Giles was at work with the +men making winter preparations which could not be deferred, albeit the +winter was already upon them, while Constance was occupied with the +nursing for which the daily increase of sickness made more hands +required than were able to perform it. + +Humility Cooper was dangerously ill, burning with fever, struggling for +breath. Constance was fond of the little maid who seemed so childish +beside her, and gladly volunteered to go again into the storm to fetch +her the fresh water for which she implored. + +At the well which had been dug, and over which a pump from the ship had +been placed and made effective, Constance came upon Giles, marching up +and down impatiently, and with him was John Billington, his chosen +comrade, the most unruly of all the younger pilgrims. + +"Well, at last, Con!" exclaimed Giles. "I've been here above an hour. I +thought to meet you here. What has kept you so long?" + +"Why, Giles, I could not know that you were awaiting me," said +Constance, reasonably. "Oh, they are so ill, our poor friends yonder! I +am sure many of them will go on a longer pilgrimage and never see this +colony established." + +"Lucky they!" said Giles, bitterly. "Why should they want to? Nobody +wants to die, and of course I am sorry for them, but better be dead than +alive here--if it is to be called alive!" + +"Oh, dear Giles, do you hate it so?" sighed Constance. "Nothing is +wrong?" she added, glancing at John Billington, longing to ask her +question more directly, but not wishing to betray to him the trouble +upon her mind. + +"Never mind talking before John," said Giles, catching the glance. "He +knows all about it; I have told him. Have you cleared yourself, Sis, or +are you also under suspicion?" + +"Oh, dear Giles," said Constance again. "You are not--Didn't Father +believe?--Isn't it all right?" She groped for the least offensive form +for her question. + +"I don't know whether or not Father believed that I am a thief," burst +out Giles, furiously. "Nor a whit do I care. I told him the word of a +man of honour was enough, and I gave him mine that I knew nothing about +his wife's lies. I told him it seemed to me clear enough that she had +made away with the papers herself, to defraud us. And I told him I had +no proof of my innocence to give him, but it was not necessary. I told +him I wouldn't go into it further; that it had to end right there, that +I was not called upon to accept, nor would I submit to such a rank +insult from any man, and that his being my father made it worse, not +better." + +"Oh, Giles, what did he say? Oh, Giles, what a misfortune!" cried +Constance, clasping her hands. + +"What did he say?" echoed Giles. "What do you think would be said when +two such tempers as my father's and mine clash? For, mark you, Con, +Stephen Hopkins would not stoop to vindicate himself from the charge of +stealing. _Stealing_, remember, not a crime worthy of a gentleman." + +"Oh, Giles, what crime is worthy of a gentleman?" Constance grieved. "Is +there any dignity in sin, and any justice in varnishing some sins with +the gloss of custom? But indeed, indeed, it is cruelly hard on you, +Giles dear. Tell me what happened." + +"The only thing that could happen. My father forgets that I am not a +child. He flew into that madness of anger that we know him capable of, +railed at me for my impertinence, insisted on my proving myself innocent +of this charge, and declared that until I did, with full apology for the +way I had received him, I was no son of his. So--Good day, Mistress +Constantia Hopkins, I hope that you are well? I once had a sister that +was like you, but sister have I none now, since I am not the son of my +reputed father," said Giles, with a sneer and a deep bow. + +Constance was in despair. The bitter mockery in Giles's young face, the +bleak unhappiness in his eyes stabbed her heart. She knew him too well +to doubt that this mood was dangerous. + +"My own dear brother!" she cried, throwing her arms around him. "Oh, +don't steel yourself so bitterly! Father loves you so much that he is +stern with you, but it will all come right; it must, once this hot +anger that you both share is past. You are too alike, that is all! Beg +his pardon, Giles, but repeat that your word is enough to prove you +innocent of the accusation. Father will see that, and yield you that, +when you have met him halfway by an apology for hard words." + +"See here, Con, why should I do that?" demanded Giles. "Is there +anything in this desolation that I should want to stay here? I've had +enough of Puritans; and Eliza is one of the strongest of them. Except +for your sake, little Sis, why should I stay? And I will one day return +for you. No, no, Con; I will sail for England when the ship returns, and +make my own fortune, somewhere, somehow." + +"Dame Eliza is not what she is because she is a Puritan. She is what she +is because she is Dame Eliza. Think of the others whom we all love and +would fain be like," Constance reminded him. "We must all be true to the +enterprise we have undertaken, and----" + +"Look here, sweet Con," John Billington interrupted her. "There is +nothing to hold Giles to this dreary enterprise, nor to hold me, either. +I am not in like plight to him. If any one accused me, suspected me as +your father has him, and still more my father did it, I'd let these east +winds blow over the space I'd have filled in this settlement. I'm for +adventure as it is, though my father cares little what Francis and I +do, being a reckless, daring man who surely belongs not in this +psalm-singing company. Giles and I will strike out into the wilderness +and try our fortunes. We will try the savages. They can be no worse than +white men, nor half as outrageous as your stepmother. Why, Con, how can +you want your brother tamely to sit down under such an insult? No man +should be called upon to prove himself honest! Giles must be off. Let +your father find out for himself who is to blame for the loss of the +papers, and repent too late for lending ear to his wife's story." + +Constance stared for a moment at John, realizing how every word he said +found a ready echo in Giles's burning heart, how potent would be this +unruly boy's influence to draw her brother after him, now, when Giles +was wounded in his two strongest feelings--his pride of honour, his love +for his father--and she prayed in her heart for inspiration to deal +wisely with this difficult situation. + +Suddenly the inspiration came to her. She found it in John's last words. + +"Nay, but Jack!" she cried, using Francis's name for his brother, +disapproved by the elders who would have none of nicknames. "If needs be +that Giles must leave this settlement, if he cannot be happy here, let +him at least bide till he has cleared his name of a foul stain, for his +honour's sake, for the sake of his dead mother, for my sake, who must +abide here and cannot escape, being but a girl, young and helpless. Is +it right that I should be pointed out till I am old as the sister of him +who was accused of a great wrong and, cowardlike, ran away because he +could not clear himself, nor meet the shame, and so admitted his guilt? +No! Rather do you, John Billington, instead of urging him to run away, +bend all your wit--of which you do not lack plenty!--to the ferreting +out of this mystery. That would be the manly course, the kind course to +me, and you have always called yourself my friend. Then prove it! Help +my brother to clear himself and never say one more word to urge him away +till he can go with a stainless name. Our father does not doubt Giles, +of that I am certain. He is sore beset, and is a choleric man. What can +any man do when his children are on the one hand, and his wife on the +other? Be patient with our father, Giles, but in any case do not go away +till this is cleared." + +"She talks like a lawyer!" cried John Billington with his boisterous +laugh "Like----what was that play I once saw before I got, or Father +got into this serious business of being a Puritan? Wrote by a fellow +called Shakespeare? Ah, I have it! Merchant of Venison! In that the girl +turns lawyer and cozzens the Jew. Connie is another pleader like that +one. Well, what say you, Giles, my friend? Strikes me she is right." + +"It is not badly thought of, Constance," admitted Giles. "But can it be +done? For if Mistress Hopkins has had a hand in spiriting away those +papers for her own advantage and my undoing, then would it be hard to +prove. What say you?" + +"Oh, no, no, no!" cried Constance. "Truth is mighty, good is stronger +than evil! Patience, Giles, patience for a while, and let us three bind +ourselves to clear our good name. Will you, will you promise, my +brother? And John?" + +"Well, then, yes," said Giles, reluctantly; and Constance clasped her +hands with a cry of joy. "For a time I will stay and see what can be +done, but not for long. Mark you, Con, I do not promise long to abide in +this unbearable life of mine." + +"Sure will I promise, Connie," assented John. "Why should I go? I would +not go without Giles, and it was not for my sake first we were going." + +"Giles, dear Giles, thank you, thank you!" cried Constance. "I could not +have borne it had you not yielded. Think of me thus left and be glad +that you are willing to stand by your one own sister, Giles. And let us +hope that in staying we shall come upon better days. Now I must take +this ewer of water to poor Humility who is burned and miserable with +thirst and pain. She will think I am never coming to relieve her! Oh, +boys, it seems almost wicked to think of our good names, of any of our +little trials, when half our company is so stricken!" + +"You are a good girl, Connie," said John Billington, awkwardly helping +Constance to assume her pitcher, his sympathy betrayed by his +awkwardness. "I hope you are not chilled standing here so long with us." + +"No, not I!" said Constance, bravely. "The New Year, and the New World +are teaching me not to mind cold which must be long borne before the +year grows old. They are teaching me much else, dear lads. So good-bye, +and bless you!" + +"'Twould have been downright contemptible to have deserted her," said +Giles and John in the same breath, and they laughed as they watched her +depart. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +Stout Hearts and Sad Ones + + +Constance turned away from the boys feeling that, till the trouble +hanging over Giles was settled, waking or sleeping she could think of +nothing else. When she reached the community house she forgot it, nor +did it come to her as more than a deeper shadow on the universal +darkness for weeks. + +She found that during her brief absence Edward Tilley's wife had died; +she had known that she was desperately ill, but the end had come +suddenly. Edward Tilley himself was almost through with his struggle, +and this would leave Humility, herself a very sick child, quite alone, +for she had come in her cousins' care. Constance bent over her to give +her the cooling water which she had fetched her. + +"Elizabeth and I are alike now," whispered Humility, looking up at +Constance with eyes dry of tears, but full of misery. "Cousin John +Tilley was her father, and Cousin Edward and his wife but my guardians, +yet they were all I had." Elizabeth Tilley had been orphaned two weeks +before, and now John Tilley's brother, following him, would leave +Humility Cooper, as she said, bereft as was Elizabeth. + +"Not all you had, dear Humility," Constance whispered in her ear, afraid +to speak aloud for there were in the room many sick whom they might +disturb. + +"My father will protect you, unless there is someone whom you would +liefer have, and we will be sisters and meet the spring with hope and +love for each other, together." + +"They will send for me to come home to England, my other cousins, of +that I am sure. Elizabeth has no one on her side to claim her. But +England is far, far away, and I am more like to join my cousins, John +and Edward Tilley and their kind, dear wives where they are now than to +live to make that fearful voyage again," moaned Humility, turning away +her head despairingly. + +"Follow John and Edward Tilley! Yes, but not for many a day!" Constance +reassured her, shaking up the girl's pillow, one deft arm beneath her +head to raise it. + +"Sleep, Humility dear, and do not think. Or rather think of how sweetly +the wind will blow through the pines when the spring sunshine calls you +out into it, and we go, you and I, to seek what new flowers we may find +in the New World." + +"No, no," Humility moved her head on the pillow in negation. "I will be +good, Constance; I will not murmur. I will remember that I lie here in +God's hand; but, oh Constance, I cannot think of pleasant things, I +cannot hope. I will be patient, but I cannot hope. Dear, dear, sweet +Constance, you are like my mother, and yet we are almost one age. What +should we all do without you, Constance?" + +Constance turned away to meet Doctor Fuller's grave gaze looking down +upon her. "I echo Humility's question, Constance Hopkins: What should we +all do without you? What a blessed thing has come to you thus to comfort +and help these pilgrims, who are sore stricken! Come with me a moment; I +have something to say to you." + +Constance followed this beloved physician into the kitchen where her +stepmother was busy preparing broth, her _Mayflower_ baby, Oceanus, tied +in a chair on a pillow, Damaris sitting on the floor beside him in +unnatural quiet. + +Dame Eliza looked up as the doctor and Constance entered, but instantly +dropped her eyes, a dull red mounting in her face. + +She knew that the girl was ministering to the dying with skill and +sympathy far beyond her years, and she remembered the patient sweetness +with which Constance, during the voyage over, forgiving her injustice, +had ministered to her when she was suffering--had tenderly cared for +little Damaris. + +Dame Eliza had the grace to feel a passing shame, though not enough to +move her to repentance, to reparation. + +"Constance," Doctor Fuller said, "I am going to lay upon you a charge +too heavy for your youth, but unescapable. You know how many of us have +been laid to rest out yonder, pilgrims indeed, their pilgrimage over. +Many more are to follow them. Mistress Standish among the first, but +there are many whose end I see at hand. I fear the spring will find us a +small colony, but those who remain must make up in courage for those who +have left them. I want you to undertake to be my right hand. Priscilla +Mullins hath already lost her mother, and her father and her brother +will not see the spring. Yet she keeps her steady heart. She will +prepare me such remedies as I can command here. Truth to tell, the +supply I brought with me is running low; I did not allow for the need of +so many of one kind. Priscilla is reliable; steady in purpose, memory, +and hand. She will see to the remedies. But you, brave Constance, will +you be my medical student, visiting my patients, lingering to see that +my orders are carried out, nursing, sustaining? In a word do what you +have already done since we landed, but on a greater scale, as an +established duty?" + +"If I can," said Constance, simply. + +"You can; there is no one else that I can count upon. The older men +among us are dying, leaving the affairs of the colony to be carried on +by the young ones. In like manner I must call upon so young a girl as +you to be my assistant. The older women are doing, and must do, still +more important work in preparing the nourishment on which these lives +depend and which the young ones are not proficient to prepare." + +Doctor Fuller looked smilingly toward Dame Eliza as he said this, as if +he feared her taking offence at Constance's promotion, and sought to +placate her. + +Mistress Hopkins gave no sign of knowing that he had turned to her, but +she said to Damaris, as if by chance: "This broth may do more than herb +brews toward curing, though your mother is not a physician's aid," and +Doctor Fuller knew that he had been right. + +A week later, though Humility Cooper was recovering, many more had +fallen ill, and several had died. + +It was late in January; the winter was set in full of wrath against +those who had dared array themselves to defy its power in the +wilderness, but the sun shone brightly, though without warmth-giving +mercy, upon Plymouth. + +There was an armed truce between Giles and his father. The boy would not +beg his father's pardon for having defied him. His love for his father +had been of the nature of hero-worship, and now, turned to bitterness, +it increased the strength of his pride, smarting under false accusation, +to resist his father. + +On the other hand Stephen Hopkins, high-tempered, strong of will, was +angry and hurt that his son refused to justify himself, or to plead with +him. So the elder and the younger, as Constance had said, too much +alike, were at a deadlock of suffering and anger toward each other. + +Stephen Hopkins was beginning his house on what he had named Leyden +Street, in memory of the pilgrims' refuge in Holland, though only by the +eyes of faith could a street be discerned to bear the name. Like all +else in Plymouth colony, Leyden Street was rather a matter of prophecy +than actuality. + +Giles was helping to build the house. All day he worked in silence, +bearing the cold without complaint, but in no wise evincing the +slightest interest in what he did. At night, in spite of the stringent +laws of the Puritan colony, Giles contrived often to slip away with John +Billington into the woods. John Billington's father, who was as unruly +as his boys, connived at these escapades. He was perpetually quarrelling +with Myles Standish, whose duty it was to enforce the law, and who did +that duty without relenting, although by all the colonists, except the +Billingtons, he was loved as well as respected. + +Early one morning Constance hurried out of the community house, tears +running down her cheeks, to meet Captain Myles coming toward it. + +"Why, pretty Constance, don't grieve, child!" said the Plymouth captain, +heartily. + +"Giles hath come to no harm, I warrant you, though he has spent the +night again with that harum-scarum Jack Billington, and this time +Francis Billington, too." + +"Oh, Captain Standish, it is not Giles! I forgot Giles," gasped +Constance. + +"Rose?" exclaimed the captain, sharply. + +Constance bent her head. "She is passing. I came to seek you," she said, +and together she and the captain went to Rose's side. + +They found Doctor Fuller there holding Rose's hand as she lay with +closed eyes, breathing lightly. In his other hand he held his watch +measuring the brief moments left, in which Rose Standish should be a +part of time. Mary Brewster, the elder's wife, held up a warning finger +not to disturb Rose, but Doctor Fuller looked quietly toward Captain +Standish. + +"It matters not now, Myles," he said. "You cannot harm her. There are +but few moments left." + +Myles Standish sprang forward, fell upon his knees, and raised Rose in +his arms. + +"Rose of the world, my English blossom, what have I done to bring thee +here?" he sobbed, with a strong man's utter abandonment of grief, and +with none of the Puritan habit of self-restraint. + +"Wherever thou hadst gone, I would have chosen, my husband! I loved +thee, Myles, I loved thee Myles!" she said, so clearly that everyone +heard her sweet voice echo to the farthest corner of the room, and for +the last time. + +For with that supreme effort to comfort her husband, disarming his +regret, Rose Standish died. + +They bore Rose's body, so light that it was scarce a burden to the two +men who carried it as in a litter, forth to the spot upon the hillside +whither they had already made so many similar processions, which was +fast becoming as thickly populated as was that portion of the colony +occupied by the living. + +But as the sun mounted higher, although the March winds cut on some +days, then as now they do in March, yet, then as now, there were soft +and dreamy days under the ascending sun's rays, made more effective by +the moderating sea and flat sands. + +The devastating diseases of winter began to abate; the pale, weak +remnants of the _Mayflower's_ passengers crept out to walk with a sort +of wonder upon the earth which was new to them, and which they had so +nearly quitted that nothing, even of those aspects of things that most +recalled the home land, seemed to them familiar. + +The men began to break the soil for farming, and to bring forth and +discuss the grain which they had found hidden by the savages--most +fortunately, for without it there would have been starvation to look +forward to after all that they had endured, since no supplies from +England had yet come after them. + +There was talk of the _Mayflower's_ return; she had lain all winter in +Plymouth harbour because the Pilgrims had required her shelter and +assistance. Soon she was to depart, a severance those ashore dreaded, +albeit there was well-grounded lack of confidence in the honesty of her +captain, Jones, whom the more outspoken among the colonists denounced +openly as a rascal. + +Little Damaris was fretful, as she so often was, one afternoon early in +March; the child was not strong and consequently was peevish. Constance +was trying to amuse her, sitting with the child, warmly wrapped from the +keen wind, in the warmth of the sunshine behind the southern wall of the +community house. + +"Tell me a story, Constance," begged Damaris, though it was not "a +story," but several that Constance had already told her. "Make a fairy +story. I won't tell Mother you did. Fairy stories are not lies, no +matter what they say, are they, Connie? I know they are not true and you +tell me they are not true, so why are they lies? Why does Mother say +they are lies? Are they bad, are they, Connie? Tell me one, anyway; I +won't tell her." + +"Ah, little Sister, I would rather not do things that we cannot tell +your mother about," said Constance. "I do not think a fairy story is +wrong, because we both know it is make-believe, that there are no +fairies, but your mother thinks them wrong, and I do not want you to do +what you will not tell her you do. Suppose you tell me a story, instead? +That would be fairer; only think how many, many stories I have told you, +and how long it is since you have told me the least little word of one!" + +"Well," agreed Damaris, but without enthusiasm. "What shall I tell you +about? Not a Bible one." + +"No, perhaps not," Constance answered, looking lazily off to sea. Then, +because she was looking seaward, she added: + +"Shall it be one about a sailor? That ought to be an interesting story." + +"A true sailor, or a made-up one?" asked Damaris, getting aroused to her +task. + +"Do you know one about a real sailor?" Constance somewhat sleepily +inquired. + +"Here is a true one," announced Damaris. + +"Once upon a time there was a sailor, and he sailed on a ship named the +_Mayflower_. And he came in. And he said: How are you, little girl? And +I said: I am pretty well, but my name is Damaris Hopkins. And he said: +What a nice name. And I said: Yes, it is. And he said: Where is your +folks? and I said: I don't know where my mother went out of the cabin +just this minute. But my sister was around, and my brother Giles was +here, fixing my hammock, 'cause it hung funny and let me roll over on +myself and folded me hurt. And my other brother couldn't go nowheres +'tall, because he was born when we was sailing here, and he can't walk. +And the sailor man said: Yes, there were two babies on the ship when we +came that we didn't have when we started, and show me your hammock. And +I did, and he said it was a nice ham----Constance, what's the matter? I +felt you jump, and you look scared. Is it Indians? Connie, Connie, +don't let 'em get me!" + +"No, no, child, there aren't any Indians about," Constance tried to +laugh. "Did I jump? Sometimes people do jump when they almost fall +asleep, and I was just as sleepy as a fireside cat when you began to +tell me the story. Now I am not one bit sleepy! That is the most +interesting story I have heard almost--yes, I think quite--in all my +life! And it is a true one?" + +"Yes, every bit true," said Damaris, proudly. + +"And the sailor went into the cabin, and saw your hammock, and said it +was a nice one, did he? Well, so it is a nice one! Did your mother see +the man?" asked Constance, trying to hide her impatience. + +"No," Damaris shook her head, decidedly. "Mother was coming, but the man +just put his hand in and set my hammock swinging. Then he went out, and +Mother was stopping and she didn't see him. And neither did I, not any +more, ever again." + +"Did you tell your mother about this sailor?" Constance inquired. + +"Oh, no," sighed Damaris. "I didn't tell her. She doesn't like stories +so much as we do. I tell you all my stories, and you tell me all yours, +don't we, Constance? I didn't tell Mother. She says: 'That's Hopkins to +like stories, and music, and art.' What's art, Connie? And she says: +'You don't get those idle ways from my side, so don't let me hear any +foolish talk, for you will be punished for idle talk.' What's that, +Connie?" + +"Oh, idle talk is--idle talk is hard to explain to you, little Damaris! +It is talk that has nothing to it, unless it may have something harmful +to it. You'll understand when you are old enough to make what you do +really matter. But this has not been idle talk to-day! Far, far from +idle talk was that fine story you told me! Suppose we keep that story +all to ourselves, not tell it to anyone at all, will you please, my +darling little sister? Then, perhaps, some day, I will ask you to tell +it to Father! Would not that be a great day for Damaris? But only if you +don't tell it to any one till then, not to your mother, not to any one!" +Constance insisted, hoping to impress the child to the point of secrecy, +yet not to let her feel how much Constance herself set upon this +request. + +"I won't! I won't tell it to any one; not to Mother, not to any one," +Damaris repeated the form of her vow. Then she looked up into +Constance's face with a puzzled frown. + +"But you wouldn't tell a fairy story, because you said you didn't want +things I couldn't tell mother! And now you say I mustn't tell her about +my story!" she said. + +Constance burst out laughing, and hugged Damaris to her, hiding in the +child's hood a merrier face than she had worn for many, many a day. + +"You have caught me, little Damaris!" she cried. "Caught me fairly! But +that was a _fairy_ story, don't you see? This isn't, this is true. So +this is not to be told, not now, do you see?" + +Damaris said "yes," slowly, with the frown in her smooth little brow +deepening. It was puzzling; she did not really see, but since Constance +expected her to see she said "yes," and felt curiously bewildered. +However, what Constance said was to her small half-sister not merely +law, but gospel. Constance was always right, always the most lovable, +the most delightful person whom Damaris knew. + +"All right, Connie. I won't tell anyone my sailor-man story," she said +at last, clearing up. + +"Just now," Constance supplemented her. "Some day you shall tell it, +Damaris! Some day I shall want you to tell it! And now, little Sister, +will you go into the house and tell Oceanus to hurry up and grow big +enough to run about, because the world, our new world, is getting to be +a lovely place in the spring sunshine, and he must grow big enough to +enjoy it as fast as he can? I must find Giles; I have something +beautiful, beautiful to tell him!" + +She kissed Damaris before setting her on her feet, and the child kissed +her in return, clinging to her. + +"You are so funny, Constance!" she said, in great satisfaction with her +sister's drollery in a world that had been filled with gloom and illness +for what seemed to so young a child, almost all her life. + +"Ah, I want to be, Damaris! I want to be funny, and happy, and glad! Oh, +I want to be!" cried Constance, and ran away at top speed with a rare +relapse into her proper age and condition. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +The Persuasive Power of Justice and Violence + + +John Billington had been forced reluctantly to work on the houses +erecting in the Plymouth plantation. + +He was not lazy, but he was adventuresome, and steady employment held +for him no attraction. Since Captain Standish and the others in +authority would deal with him if he tried to shirk his share of daily +work, John made it as bearable as possible by joining himself to Giles +in the building of the Hopkins house. Constance knew that she should +find the two boys building her future home, and thither she ran at her +best speed, and Constance could run like a nymph. + +"Oh, Giles!" she panted, coming up to the two amateur carpenters, and +rejoicing that they were alone. + +"Oh, Con!" Giles echoed, turning on his ladder to face her, half sitting +on a rung. "What's forward? Hath the king sent messengers calling me +home to be prime minister? Sorry to disappoint His Royal Highness, but I +can't go. I'd liefer be a trapper!" + +"And that's what your appointment is!" triumphed Constance. "You're to +trap big game, no less than a human rascal! Oh, Giles and Jack, do hear +what I've got to tell you!" + +"But for us to hear, you must tell, Con!" John Billington reminded her. +"I'll bet a golden doubloon you've got wind of the missing papers!" + +"We don't bet, Jack, but if we did you'd win your wager," Constance +laughed. "Damaris told me 'a true story,' and now I'm going to tell it +to you. Fancy that little person having this story tucked away in her +brain all these weary days!" + +And Constance related Damaris's entertainment of her, to which John +Billington listened with many running comments of tongue and whistled +exclamations, but Giles in perfect silence, betraying no excitement. + +"Here's a merry chance, Giles!" John cried as soon as Constance ended. +"What with savages likely to visit us and robbers for us to hunt, why +life in the New World may be bearable after all!" + +Giles ignored his jubilant comment. + +"I shall go out to the _Mayflower_ and get the packet," he said. "It is +too late to-day, but in the morning early I shall make it. I suppose you +will go with me, Jack?" + +"Safe to suppose it," said John. "I'd swim after you if you started +without me." + +"Won't you take Captain Standish? I mean won't you ask him to help you?" +asked Constance, anxiously. "It is sufficient matter to engage him, and +he is our protector in all dangers." + +"We need no protection, little Sis," said Giles, loftily. "It hath been +my experience that a just cause is sufficient. We have suspected the +master of the _Mayflower_ of trickery all along." + +Constance could not forbear a smile at her brother's worldly-wise air of +deep knowledge of mankind, but nevertheless she wished that "the right +arm of the colony" might be with the boys to strike for them if need +were. + +It was with no misgiving as to their own ability, but with the highest +glee, that Giles and John made their preparations to set forth just +before dawn. + +They kept their own counsel strictly and warned Constance not to talk. + +There was not much to be done to make ready, merely to see that the +small boat, built by the boys for their own use, was tight, and to tuck +out of sight under her bow seat a heavy coat in case the east +wind--which the pilgrims had soon learned was likely to come in upon +them sharply on the warmest day--blew up chillingly. + +John Billington owned, by his father's reckless indulgence, a pistol +that was his chief treasure; a heavy, clumsy thing, difficult to hold +true, liable to do the unexpected, the awkward progenitor of the pretty +modern revolver, but a pistol for all its defects, and the apple of +John's eye. This he had named Bouncing Bully, invariably spoke of it as +"he", and felt toward it and treated it not merely as his arms, but as +his companion in arms. + +Bouncing Bully was to make the third member of the party; he accompanied +John, hidden with difficulty because of his bulk, in the breast of his +coat, when he crept out without disturbing his father and Francis, to +join Giles at the spot on the shore where their flat-bottomed row boat +was pulled up. + +He found Giles awaiting him, watching the sands in a crude hour glass +which he had himself constructed. + +"I've been waiting an hour," Giles said as John came up. "I know you are +not late, but all the same here I have stood while this glass ran out, +with ten minutes more since I turned it again." + +"Well, I'm here now; take hold and run her out," said John, seizing the +boat's bow and bracing to shove her. + +"Row out. I'll row back," commanded Giles as he and John swung over the +side of the boat out of the waves into which they had waded. + +They did not talk as they advanced upon the _Mayflower_ which lay at +anchor in the harbour. They had agreed upon boarding her with as little +to announce their coming as possible. As it chanced, there being no need +of guarding against surprise, there was no one on deck when the boys +made their boat fast to the ship's cable, and clambered on deck--save +one round-faced man who was swabbing the deck to the accompaniment of +his droning a song, tuneless outside his own conception of it. + +"Lord bless and save us but you dafted me, young masters!" this man +exclaimed when Giles and John appeared; he leaned against the rail with +the air of a fine lady, funny to see in one so stoutly stalwart. + +"I didna know ye at sight; now I see 'tis Master Giles and Master John +Billington, whose pranks was hard on us crossing." + +"You are not the man we want," said Giles, haughtily, trusting to +assurance to win his end. "Fetch me that man who goes in and about the +cabin at times, the one that stands well with Jones, the ship's master." + +This last was a gamble on chance, but Giles felt sure of his +conclusions, that the captain was at the bottom of the loss of the +papers, the actual thief his tool. + +"Aye, I know un," said the man, nodding sagely, proud of his quickness. +"'Tis George Heaton, I make no doubt. The captain gives him what is +another, better man's due. Master Jones gives him his ear and his +favour. 'Tis George, slick George, you want, of that I'm certain." He +nodded many times as he ended. + +"Likely thing," agreed Giles. "Fetch him." + +The deck cleaner departed in a heavy fashion, and returned shortly in +company with a wiry, slender young man, having a handsome face, a quick +roving eye, crafty, but clever. + +"Ah, George, do you remember me?" asked Giles. "Don't dare to offer me +your hand, my man, for I'd not touch it." + +"I may be serving as a sailor, but I'm as good a gentleman born as you," +retorted Heaton, flushing angrily. + +"Decently born you may be; of that I know nothing. Pity is it that you +have gone so far from your birthday," said Giles. "But as good a +gentleman as I am you are not, nor as anyone, as this honest fellow +here. For blood or no blood, a thief is far from a gentleman." + +George Heaton made a step forward with upraised fist, but Giles looked +at him contemptuously, and did not fall back. + +"No play acting here. Give me the papers you stole out of my +stepmother's care, out of my little sister's sleeping hammock, weeks +agone," said Giles, coolly. "Your game is up. For some reason the child +did not tell us of your act till now; now she hath spoken. Fortunately +the ship hath lingered for you to be dealt with before she took you back +to England. Hand over the papers, Heaton, if you ever hope to be nearer +England than the arm of the tree from which you shall hang on the New +England coast, unless you restore your booty." + +Heaton looked into Giles's angry eyes and quailed. The boy had grown up +during the hard winter, and Heaton recognized his master; more than +that, he had the cowardice that had made him the ready tool of Captain +Jones--the cowardice of the man who lives by tricks, trusting them to +carry him to success--who will not stand by his colours because he has +no standard of loyalty. + +"I haven't got your father's papers, Giles Hopkins," he growled, +dropping his eyes. + +"You could have said much that I would not have believed, but that I +believe," said Giles. "Do you know what Master Jones did with them when +you gave them over to him, you miserable cat's paw?" + +"How about giving the cat to the cat's paw, Giles?" suggested John, +grinning in huge enjoyment of George Heaton's instant, sailor's +appreciation of his joke and the offices of "the cat" with which sailors +were lashed in punishment. + +"I hope it will not be necessary. If Captain Standish comes with a +picked number of our men to get these papers, there will be worse beasts +than the cat let loose on the _Mayflower_. Lead me to the captain, +Heaton, and remember it will go hard with you if you let him lead you +into denial of the crime you committed for him," said Giles, with such a +dignity as filled rollicking John, who wanted to turn the adventure into +a frolic, with admiration for his comrade. + +"Stand by you and Jones will deal with me. Stand by him and you threaten +me with your men, led by that fighting Standish of yours. Between you +where does George Heaton stand?" asked Heaton sullenly, turning, +nevertheless, to do Giles's bidding. + +"You should have thought of this before," said Giles, coolly. "There +never yet was wisdom and safety in rascality." + +Captain Jones, whose connection with the pilgrims was no more than that +he had been hired by them to bring them to the New World, was a man +whose honesty many of his passengers mistrusted, but against whom, as +against the captain of the _Speedwell_ that had turned back, there was +no proof. + +He was coming out of his cabin to his breakfast when Heaton brought the +boys to him; he started visibly at the sight of Giles, but recovered +himself instantly and greeted the lads affably. + +"Good morning, my erstwhile passengers and new colonists," he said. "I +have wondered that at least the younger members of your community did +not visit the ship. Welcome!" He held out his hand, but neither Giles +nor John seemed to see it. + +"Master Jones," said Giles, "there is no use wasting time and phrases. +This man, at your orders, stole out of the women's cabin on this ship +the papers left by my father in his wife's care. He has given them up to +you. The story has only now--yesterday--come to our knowledge. Give me +those papers." + +"What right have you to accuse me, _me_, the master of this ship?" +demanded Captain Jones, blustering. "Have a care that I don't throw you +overboard. Take your boat and be gone before harm comes to you!" + +"You would throw more than us overboard if you dared to touch us," +returned Giles. "Nor is it either of us to whom harm threatens. Come, +Master Jones, those papers! My father, none of the colony, knows of your +crime. What do you think will befall you when they do know it? Hand us +the papers, not one lacking, and we will let you go back to England free +and safe. Refuse----Well, it's for you to choose, but I'd not hesitate +in your place." Giles shrugged his shoulders, half turning away, as if +after all the result of his mission did not concern him. + +John saw a telepathic message exchanged between the captain and his +tool. The question wordlessly asked Heaton whether the theft of the +papers, their possession by the captain, actually was known, and +Heaton's eyes answering: "Yes!" + +Captain Jones swallowed hard, as if he were swallowing a great dose, as +he surely was. After a moment's thought he spoke: + +"See here, Giles Hopkins, I always liked you, and now I father admire +you for your courage in thus boarding my ship and bearding me. I admit +that I hold the papers. But, as of course you can easily see, I am +neither a thief nor a receiver of stolen goods. My reason for wanting +those papers was no common one. I am willing to restore to you those +which relate to your family inheritance, your father's personal papers, +but those which relate to Plymouth colony I want. I can use them to my +advantage in England. Take this division of the documents and go back +with my congratulations on your conduct." + +"I would liefer your blame than your praise, sir," said Giles, +haughtily, in profound disgust with the man. "It needs no saying that my +father would part with any private advantage sooner than with what had +been entrusted to him. First and most I demand the Plymouth colony +documents. Get the papers, not one lacking, and let me go ashore. The +wide harbour's winds are not strong enough for me to breathe on your +ship. It sickens me." + +Captain Jones gave the boy a malevolent look. + +"A virtue of necessity," he muttered, turning to go. + +"And your sole virtue?" suggested Giles to his retreating back. + +Captain Jones was gone a long time. The boys fumed with impatience and +feared harm to the papers, but George Heaton grinned at them with the +utmost cheerfulness. He had completely sloughed off all share in the +theft and plainly enjoyed his superior's discomfiture, being of that +order of creatures whose malice revels in the mischances of others. + +It proved that the captain's delay was due to his reluctance to comply +with Giles's demand. He came at last, slowly, bearing in his hand the +packet enveloped in oilskin which Giles remembered having seen in his +father's possession. + +"I must do your bidding, youngster," he said angrily, "for you can harm +me otherwise. But what guarantee have I, if I hand these papers to you, +that you will keep the secret?" + +"I never said that the secret would be kept; I said that you should +suffer no harm. An innocent person is accused of this theft; the truth +must be known. But I can and do promise you that you shall not be +molested; I can answer for that. As to guarantee, you know my father, +you know the Plymouth pilgrims, you know me. Is there any doubt that we +are honourable, conscientious, God-fearing, the sort that faithfully +keep their word?" demanded Giles. + +"No. I grant you that. Take your packet," said Captain Jones, yielding +it. + +"By your leave I will examine it," said Giles unfastening its straps. + +"Do you doubt me?" blustered the captain. + +"Not a whit," laughed John with a great burst of mirth, before Giles +could answer. + +"Why should we doubt you? Haven't you shown us exactly what you are?" + +Giles turned over the papers one by one. None was missing. He folded +them and replaced them in their case, buckling its straps. + +"All the papers are here," he said. "John, we'll be off. This is our +final visit to the _Mayflower_, Master Jones--unless I ship with you for +England. Good voyage, as I hear they say in France. Hope you'll catch a +bit of Puritan conscience before you leave the harbour." + +Captain Jones followed the boys to the side of the ship where they were +to reëmbark in their rowboat. At every step he grew angrier, the veins +swelled in his forehead which was only a shade less purple-red than his +cheeks. His defeat was a sore thing, the disappointment of the plans +which he had laid upon the possession of the stolen documents became +more vividly realized with each moment, and the fact that two lads had +thus conquered him and were going away with their prize infuriated him. + +Giles had swung himself down into the boat and was shipping the oars, +but John halted for a moment in a stuffy corner to gloat over the +captain's empurpled face and to dally with a temptation to add +picturesqueness to their departure. The temptation got the upper hand of +him, though John usually held out both hands to mischief. + +He drew Bouncing Bully from his breast and levelled it. + +"Stop! Gunpowder!" screamed the captain, choking with fear and rage, and +pointing at a small keg that stood hard by. + +"I won't hit it," John grinned, delightedly. "Let's see how _my_ +gunpowder is." With a flourish the mad boy fired a shot into the wall of +the tiny cabin, regardless of the fact that the likely explosion of the +keg of gunpowder would have blown up the _Mayflower_ and him with her. + +The captain fell forward on his face, the men who were at work splicing +ropes in the cubby-like cabin cowered speechless, their faces ashen. + +John whooped with joy and fled, leaping into the rowboat which he nearly +upset. + +"What?" demanded Giles. "Who shot? Did he attack you, Jack?" + +"Who? No one attacked me. I shot. Zounds, they were scared! In that +pocket of a cabin, with a keg of gunpowder sitting close," chuckled +John. + +"What in the name of all that's sane did you do that for?" cried Giles. +"Scared! I should say with reason! Why, Jack Billington, you might be +blown to bits by this time, ship, men, yourself, and all!" + +"I might be," assented Jack, coolly. "I'm not. Giles, you should have +seen your shipmaster Jones! Flat on his face and fair blubbering with +fear and fury! He loves us not, my Giles! I doubt his days are dull on +the _Mayflower_, so long at anchor. 'Twas but kind to stir up a lively +moment. Here, give me an oar! Even though you said you would row back, I +feel like helping you. Wait till I settle Bouncing Bully. He's digging +me in the ribs, to remind me of the joke we played 'em, I've no doubt; +but he hurts. That's better. Now for shore and your triumph, old Giles!" + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +Deep Love, Deep Wound + + +Constance had escaped from Humility Cooper and Elizabeth Tilley who had +affectionately joined her when she had appeared on her way to the beach +to await Giles's return. + +Constance invented a question that must be asked Elder Brewster because +she knew that the girls, though they revered him, feared him, and never +willingly went where they must reply to his gravely kind attempts at +conversation with them. "I surely feel like a wicked hypocrite," sighed +Constance, watching her friends away as she turned toward the house that +sheltered the elder. + +"What would dear little Humility say if she knew I had tried to get rid +of her? Or Elizabeth either! But it isn't as though I had not wanted +them for a less good reason. I do love them dearly! I must meet Giles +and hear his news as soon as I can, and it can't be told before another. +Mercy upon us, what _was_ it that I had thought of to ask Elder +Brewster! I've forgotten every syllable of it! Well, mercy upon us! And +suppose he sees me hesitating here! I know! I'll confess to him that I +was wishing I was in Warwickshire hearing Eastertide alleluias sung in +my cousins' church, and ask him if it was sinful. He loves to correct +me, dear old saint!" + +Dimpling with mischief Constance turned her head away from a possible +onlooker in the house to pull her face down into the proper expression +for a youthful seeker for guidance. Then, quite demure and serious, with +downcast eyes, she turned and went into the house. + +Elder William Brewster kept her some time. She was nervously anxious to +escape, fearing to miss the boys' arrival. But Elder Brewster was +deeply interested in pretty Constance Hopkins, in whom, in spite of her +sweet docility and patient daily performance of her hard tasks, he +discerned glimpses of girlish liveliness that made him anxious and which +he felt must be corrected to bring the dear girl into perfection. + +Constance decided that she was expiating fully whatever fault there +might have been in feigning an errand to Elder Brewster to get rid of +the girls as she sat uneasily listening to that good man's exposition of +the value of alleluias in the heart above those sung in church, and the +baseness of allowing the mind to look back for a moment at the "shackles +from which she was freed." Good Elder Brewster ended by reading from his +roughened brown leather-covered Bible the story of Lot's wife to which +Constance--who had heard it many times, it being an appropriate theme +for the pilgrim band to ponder, sick in heart and body as they had been +so long--did not harken. + +At last she was dismissed with a fatherly hand laid on her shining head, +and a last warning to keep in mind how favoured above her English +cousins she had been to be chosen a daughter in Israel to help found a +kingdom of righteousness. Constance ran like the wind down the road, +stump-bordered, the beginning of a street, and came down upon the beach +just as the boys reached it and their boat bumped up on the sand under +the last three hard pulls they had given the oars in unison. + +"Oh! Giles, oh, Giles, oh Jack!" cried Constance fairly dancing under +her excitement. + +"Oh, Con, oh, Con! Oh, Constantia!" mocked John, hauling away on the +painter and getting the boat up to her tying stake. + +"What happened you? Have you news?" Constance implored them. + +"We heard no especial news, Con," said Giles. "I'm not sure we asked for +any. We have this instead; will that suffice you?" + +He took from his breast the packet of papers and offered it to her. + +"Oh, Giles!" sighed Constance, clasping her hands, tears of relief +springing to her eyes. "All of them? Are they all safe? Thank Heaven!" +she added as Giles nodded. + +"Did you have trouble getting them? Who held them? Tell me everything!" + +"Give me a chance Constantia Chatter," said Giles, using the name +Constance had been dubbed when, a little tot, she ceaselessly used her +new accomplishment of talking. "We had no trouble, no. We found the +thief and made him confess what we already knew, that he was the +master's cat's paw. Jones had to disgorge; he could not hold the papers +without paying too heavy a penalty. So here they are. Why don't you take +them?" + +"I take them?" puzzled Constance, accepting them as Giles thrust them +into her hand. "Do you want me to put them away for you? Are you not +coming to dinner? There is not enough time to go to work before noon. +The sun was not two hours from our noon mark beside the house when I +left it." + +"I suppose I am going to dinner," said Giles. "I am ready enough for it. +No, I don't want you to put the papers away for me. You can do with them +what you like. I should advise your giving them to Father, since they +are his, but that is as you will. I give them into your hands." + +"Giles, Giles!" cried Constance, in distress, instantly guessing that +this meant that Giles was intending to hold aloof from a part in +rejoicing over the recovery. + +"Give them to Father yourself. How proud of you he will be that you +ferreted out the thief and went so bravely, with only John, to demand +them for him! It is not my honour, and I must not take it." + +"Oh, as to honour, you got the first clue from Damaris, if there's +honour in it, but for that I do not care. I did the errand when you sent +me on it, or opened my way. However it came about I will not give the +papers to my father. In no wise will I stoop to set myself right in his +eyes. Perhaps he will say that the whole story is false, that I did not +get the papers on the ship, but had them hidden till fear and an uneasy +conscience made me deliver them up, and that you are shielding your +brother," said Giles, frowning as he turned from Constance. + +"And I thought now everything would be right!" groaned the girl--her +lips quivering, tears running down her cheeks. "Giles, dear Giles; +don't, don't be so bitter, so unforgiving! It is not just to Father, not +just to yourself, to me. It isn't _right_. Giles! Will you hold this +grudge against the father you so loved, and forget all the years that +went before, for a miserable day when he half harboured doubt of you, +and that when he was torn by influence, tormented till he was hardly +himself?" + +"Now, Constance, there is no need of your turning preacher," Giles said, +harshly. + +"If you like to swallow insult, well and good. It does not matter about +a girl, but a man's honour is his chiefest possession. Take the papers, +and prate no more to me. My father wanted them; there they are. He +suspected me of stealing them; I found the thief. That's all there is +about it. What is there to-day to eat? An early row makes a man hungry. +Art ready, Jack? We will go to the house, by your leave, pretty Sis. +Sorry to see your eyes reddening, but better that than other harm." + +Constance hesitated as Giles went up the beach, taking John with him. +For a moment she debated seeking Captain Standish, giving him the +papers, and asking him to be intermediary between her father and this +headstrong boy, who talked so largely of himself as "a man," and behaved +with such wrong-headed, childish obstinacy. But a second thought +convinced her that she herself might serve Giles better than the +captain, and she took her way after her brother, beginning to hope, true +to herself, that her father's pleasure in recovering the papers, his +desire to make amends to Giles, would express itself in such wise that +they would be drawn together closer than before the trouble arose. + +It was turning into a balmy day, after a chilly morning. Though only the +middle of March the air was full of spring. In the community house, as +Constance entered, she found her stepmother, and Mrs. White--each with +her _Mayflower_-born baby held in one arm--busily setting forth the +dinner, while Priscilla and Humility and Elizabeth helped them, and the +smaller children, headed by Damaris, attempted to help, were sharply +rebuked for getting in the way, subsided, but quickly darted up again to +take a dish, or hand a knife which their inconsistent elders found +needed. + +Several men--Mr. Hopkins, Mr. White; Mr. Warren, whose wife had not yet +come from England; Doctor Fuller, in like plight; John and Francis +Billington's father, John Alden and Captain Myles Standish, as a matter +of course--were discussing planting of corn while awaiting the finishing +touches to their carefully rationed noonday meal. + +"If you follow my counsel," the captain was saying, "you will plant over +the spot where we have laid so many of our company. Thus far we hardly +are aware of our savage neighbours, but with the warm weather they will +come forth from their woodlands, and who knows what may befall us from +them? Better, say I, conceal from them that no more than half of those +who sailed hither are here to-day. Better hide from their eyes beneath +the tall maize the graves on yonder hillside." + +"Well said, good counsel, Captain Myles," said Stephen Hopkins. "God's +acre, the folk of parts of Europe call the enclosure of their dead. We +will make our acre God's acre, planting it doubly for our protection, in +grain for our winter need, concealment of our devastation." + +Suddenly the air was rent with a piercing shriek, and little Love +Brewster, the Elder's seven-year-old son, came tumbling into the house, +shaking and inarticulate with terror. + +Priscilla Mullins caught him into her lap and tried to sooth him and +discover the cause of his fright, but he only waved his little hands +frantically and sobbed beyond all possibility of guessing what words +were smothered beneath the sobs. + +"Elder Brewster promised to let the child pass the afternoon with +Damaris," began Mrs. Hopkins, but before she got farther John Alden +started up. + +"Look there," he said. "Is it wonderful that Love finds the sight beyond +him?" + +[Illustration: "'Look there,' said John Alden"] + +Stalking toward the house in all the awful splendour of paint, feathers, +beads, and gaudy blanket came a tall savage. He had, of course, seen the +child and realized his fright and that he had run to alarm the pilgrims, +but not a whit did it alter the steady pace at which he advanced, +looking neither to left nor to right, his arms folded upon his breast, +no sign apparent of whether he came in friendship or in enmity. + +The first instinct of the colonists, in this first encounter with an +Indian near to the settlement was to be prepared in case he came in +enmity. + +Several of the men reached for the guns which hung ready on the walls, +and took them down, examining their horns and rods as they handled them. +But the savage, standing in the doorway, made a gesture full of calm +dignity which the pilgrims rightly construed to mean salutation, and +uttered a throaty sound that plainly had the same import. + +"Welcome!" hazarded Myles Standish advancing with outstretched hand upon +the new-comer, uncertain how to begin his acquaintance, but hoping this +might be pleasing. "Yes," said the Indian in English, to the boundless +surprise of the Englishmen. "Yes, welcome, friend!" He took Captain +Standish's hand. + +"Chief?" he asked. "Samoset," he added, touching his own breast, and +thus introducing himself. + +"How in the name of all that is wonderful did he learn English!" cried +Stephen Hopkins. + +"Yes, Samoset know," the Indian turned upon him, understanding. "White +men ships fish far, far sunrise," he pointed eastward, and they knew +that he was telling them that English fishermen had been known to him, +whose fishing grounds lay toward the east. + +"'Tis true; our men have been far east and north of here," said Myles +Standish, turning toward Stephen Hopkins, as to one who had travelled. + +"Humphrey Gilbert, but many since then," nodded Mr. Hopkins. + +"Big chief Squanto been home long time white men, he talk more Samoset," +said Samoset. "Squanto come see----." He waved his hand comprehendingly +over his audience, to indicate whom Squanto intended to visit. + +"Well, womenfolk, you must find something better than you give us, and +set it forth for our guest," said Stephen Hopkins. "Get out our English +beer; Captain Myles I'll undertake, will join me in foregoing our +portion to-morrow for him. And the preserved fruits; I'm certain he will +find them a novelty. And you must draw on our store of trinkets for +gifts. Lads--Giles, John, Francis--help the girls open the chest and +make selection." + +Samoset betrayed no understanding of these English words, maintaining a +stolid indifference while preparations for his entertainment went on. +But he did full justice to the best that the colonists had to set before +him and accepted their subsequent gifts with a fine air of noble +condescension, as a monarch accepting tribute. + +Later with pipes filled with the refreshing weed from Virginia, which +had circuitously found its way back to the New World, via England, the +Plymouth men sat down to talk to Samoset. + +Limited as was his vocabulary, broken as was his speech, yet they +managed to understand much of what he told them, valuable information +relating to their Indian neighbours near by, to the state of the +country, to climate and soil, and to the people of the forests farther +north. + +Samoset went away bearing his gifts, with which, penetrating his +reserve, the colonists saw that he was greatly pleased. He promised a +speedy return, and to bring to them Squanto, from whose friendship and +better knowledge of their speech and race evidently Samoset thought they +would gain much. + +The younger men--Doctor Fuller, John Alden and others, needless to say +Giles, John, and Francis Billington, under the conduct of Myles +Standish--accompanied Samoset for a few miles on his return. + +The sun was dropping westward, the night promising to be as warmly kind +as the day had been, and Constance slipped her hand into her father's +arm as he stood watching their important guest's departure, under his +escort's guardianship. + +"A little tiny walk with me, Father dear?" she hinted. "I like to watch +the sunset redden the sands, and it is so warm and fine. Besides, I have +something most beautiful to tell you!" + +"Good news, Con? This seems to be a day of good things," said her +father, as Constance nodded hard. "The coming of yonder Indian seems to +me the happiest thing that could well have befallen us. Given the +friendship of our neighbouring tribes we have little to fear from more +distant ones, and the great threat to our colony's continuance is +removed. Well, I will walk with you child, but not far nor long. There +is scant time for dalliance in our lives, you know." + +They went out, Constance first running to snatch her cloak and pull its +deep hood over her hair as a precaution against a cold that the warm day +might betray her into, and which she had good reason to fear who had +helped nurse the victims of the first months of the immigration. + +"The good news, Daughter?" hinted Mr. Hopkins after they had walked a +short distance in silence. + +Constance laughed triumphantly, giving his arm a little shake. "I waited +to see if you wouldn't ask!" she cried, "I knew you were just as +curious, you men, as we poor women creatures--but of course in a big, +manly way!" She pursed her lips and shook her head, lightly pinching her +father to point her satire. + +"Have a care, Mistress Constantia!" her father warned her. "Curiosity is +a weakness, even dangerous, but disrespect to your elders and betters, +what is that?" + +"Great fun," retorted Constance. + +Her father laughed. He found his girl's playfulness, which she was +recovering with the springtide and the relief from the heavy sorrow of +the first weeks in Plymouth, refreshing amid the extreme seriousness of +most of the people around him. "Proceed with your tidings, you saucy +minx!" he said. + +"Very well then, Mr. Stephen Hopkins," Constance obeyed him, "what would +you say if I were to tell you that there was news of your missing packet +of papers?" + +Stephen Hopkins stopped short. "I should say thank God with all my +heart, Constance, not merely because the loss was serious, but most of +all because of Giles. Is it true?" he asked. + +"They are found!" cried Constance, jubilantly, "and it was Giles himself +who faced the thief and forced him to give them up. It is a fine +tale!" And she proceeded to tell it. + +Her father's relief, his pleasure, was evidently great, but to +Constance's alarm as the story ended, his face settled into an +expression of annoyance. + +"It is indeed good news, Constance, and I am grateful, relieved by it," +he said, having heard her to the end. "But why did not Giles tell me +this himself, bring me the recovered packet? Would it not be natural to +wish to confer upon me, himself, the happiness he had won for me, to +hasten to me with his victory, still more that it clears him of the +least doubt of complicity in the loss?" + +"Ah, no, Father! That is just the point of his not doing so!" cried +Constance. "Giles is sore at heart that you felt there might be a doubt +of him. He cannot endure it, nor seem to bring you proofs of his +innocence. I suppose he does not feel like a boy, but like a man whose +honour is questioned, and by--forgive me, Father, but I must make it +clear--by one whose trust in him should be stronger than any other's." + +"Nonsense, Constantia!" Stephen Hopkins exploded, angrily. "What are we +coming to if we cannot question our own children? Giles is not a man; he +is a boy, and my boy, so I shall expect him to render me an account of +his actions whenever, and however I demand it. I'll not stand for his +pride, his assumption of injured dignity. Let him remember that! Thank +God my son is an honest lad, as by all reason he should be. But though +he is right as to the theft, he is wrong in his arrogance, and pride is +as deadly a sin as stealing. I want no more of this nonsense." + +"Oh, Father dear," cried Constance, wringing her hands with her peculiar +gesture when matters got too difficult for those small hands. "Please, +please be kind to Giles! Oh, I thought everything would be all right now +that the packet was recovered, and by him! Be patient with him, I beg +you. He is not one that can be driven, but rather won by love to do your +will. If you will convey to him that you regret having suspected him he +will at once come back to be our own Giles." + +"Have a care, Constantia, that in your anxiety for your brother you do +not fall into a share of his fault!" warned her father. "It is not for +you to advise me in my dealing with my son. As to trying to placate him +by anything like an apology: preposterous suggestion! That is not the +way of discipline, my girl! Let Giles indicate to me his proper +humility, his regret for taking the attitude that I am not in authority +over him, free to demand of him any explanation, any evidence of his +character I please. No, no, Constance! You mean well, but you are +wrong." + +Thus saying, Mr. Hopkins turned on his heel to go back to the house, and +Constance followed, no longer with her hand on her father's arm, but +understanding the strong annoyance he felt toward Giles, and painfully +conscious that her pleading for her brother had done less than no good. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +Seedtime of the First Spring + + +Giles Hopkins and John and Francis Billington slept in the new house, +now nearly finished, on Leyden Street. Therefore it happened that +Stephen Hopkins did not see his son until the morning after the recovery +of the papers. + +"Well, Giles," said his father, with a smile that Giles took to be +mocking, but in which the father's hidden gratification really strove to +escape, "so you played a man's part with the _Mayflower_ captain, at the +same time proving yourself? I am glad to get my papers, boy, and glad +that you have shown that you had no share in their loss, but only in +their return. Henceforth be somewhat less insolent when appearances are +against you; still better take care that appearances, facts as well, are +in your favour." + +"Appearances are in the eye of the on-looker," said Giles, drawing +himself up and flushing angrily, though, had he but seen it, love and +pride in him shone in his father's eyes, though his tone and words were +careless, gruff indeed. + +"If Dame Eliza is to be the glass through which you view me, then it +matters not what course I follow, for you will not see it straight. Nor +do I care to act to the end that you may not suspect me of being fit for +hanging. A gentleman's honour needs no proving, or else is proved by his +sword. And whatever you think of me, I can never defend myself thus +against my father. A father may insult his son with impunity." + +"But a boy may not speak insultingly to his father with impunity, Master +Giles Hopkins," said Stephen Hopkins, advancing close to the lad with +his quick temper afire. "One word more of such nature as I just heard +and I will have you publicly flogged, as you richly deserve, and as our +community would applaud." + +Giles bowed, his face as angry as his father's, and passed on cutting +the young sprouts along the road with a stick he carried. And thus the +two burning hearts which loved each other--too similar to make +allowances for each other when the way was open to their +reconciliation--were further estranged than before. + +In the meantime Constance, Priscilla, and the younger girls, were +starting out, tools in hand, baskets swinging on their arms, to prepare +the first garden of the colony. + +"Thank--I mean I rejoice that we are not sent to work amid the graves on +the hillside," said Priscilla, altering her form of expression to +conform with the prescribed sobriety. + +"Oh, that is to be planted with the Indian corn, you know," said +Constance. "It grows high, and will hide our graves. Why think of that, +Prissy? I want to be happy." She began to hum a quaint air of her own +making. She had by inheritance the gift of music, as the kindred gift of +love and taste for all beauty, a gift that should never find expression +in her new surroundings. + +Presently she found words for her small tune and sang them, swinging her +basket in time with her singing and also swinging Humility Cooper's hand +as she walked, not without some danger of dropping into a sort of dance +step. + +This is what she sang: + + Over seas lies England; + Still we find this wing-land; + Birds and bees and butterflies flit about us here. + Eastward lies our Mother, + Loved as is no other, + Yet here flowers blossom with the springing year. + + We will plant a garden, + Eve-like, as the warden + Of the hope of men unborn, future of the race; + Tears that we were weeping, + Watering our keeping, + Till we make the New World joy's own dwelling place. + +Priscilla Mullins stopped short and looked with amazement on her younger +companion. + +"Did you make that song, Constance?" she demanded, being used to the +rhyming which Constance made to entertain the little ones. + +"It made itself, Pris," laughed Constance. + +"Well, I'm no judge of songs, and as to rhyming I could match cat and +rat if it was put to me to do, but no more. Yet it seemeth me that is a +pretty song, with exactly the truth for its burden, and it trippeth as +sweetly as the robin whistles. Do you know, Constance, it seems to me to +run more into smooth cadences than the Metrical Psalms themselves!" +Priscilla dropped her voice as she said this, as if she hoped to be +unheard by the vengeance which might swoop down on her. + +Constance's laugh rang out merrily, quite unafraid. + +"Oh, dear Prissy, the Metrical Version was not meant to run in smooth +cadences!" she cried. "Do you see why we should not sing as the robin +whistles, being young and God's creatures, surely not less than the +birds? Priscilla Mullins, there is John Alden awaiting us in the very +spot where we are to work! How did he happen there, when no other man is +about?" + +"He spoke to me of helping us with the first heavy turning of the soil," +said Priscilla, exceedingly red and uncomfortable, but constrained to be +truthful. "Oh, Constance, never look at me like that! Can I help it that +Master Alden is so considerate of us?" + +"Sure-ly not!" declared Constance emphatically. "What about his +returning home, Pris? He was hired but as cooper for the voyage, and +would return. Will he go, think you?" + +"He seems not fully decided. He said somewhat to me of staying." Poor +Priscilla looked more than miserable as she said this, yet was forced to +laugh. + +"I will speak to my father and Captain Standish to get them to offer him +work a-plenty this summer, so mayhap they can persuade him to let the +_Mayflower_ sail without him--next week she goes. Or perhaps you could +bring arguments to bear upon him, Priscilla! He never seems +stiff-necked, nor unbiddable." Constance said this with a great effect +of innocence, as if a new thought had struck her, and Priscilla had +barely time to murmur: + +"Thou art a sad tease, Constance," before they came up with John Alden, +who looked as embarrassed as Priscilla when he met Constance's dancing +eyes. + +Nevertheless it was not long before John Alden and Priscilla Mullins +were working together at a little distance apart from the rest, leaving +Constance to dig and rake in company with Humility Cooper, Elizabeth +Tilley, and the little girls. Thus at work they saw approaching from the +end of the road that was lost in the woods beyond a small but imposing +procession of tall figures, wrapped in gaudy colored blankets, their +heads surmounted with banded feathers which streamed down their backs, +softly waving in the light breeze. + +"Oh, dear, oh, dear, Connie, they are savages!" whispered Damaris +looking about as if wishing that a hole had been dug big enough to hide +her instead of the small peas which she was planting. + +"But they are friendly savages, small sister," said Constance. "See, +they carry no bows and arrows. Do you know, girls, I believe this is the +great chief Massasoit, of whom Samoset spoke, promising us his visit +soon, and that with him may be Squanto, the Indian who speaks English! +Don't you think we may be allowed to postpone the rest of the work to +see the great conference which will take place if this is Massasoit?" + +"Indeed, Constance, my back calls me to cease louder than any savage," +said Humility, her hand on her waist, twisting her small body from side +to side. "I have been wishing we might dare stop, but I couldn't bring +myself to say so." + +"You have not recovered strength for this bending and straining work, my +dear," said Constance in her grandmotherly way. "Priscilla, Priscilla! +John Alden, see!" she called, and the distant pair faced her with a +visible start. + +She pointed to the savages, and Priscilla and John hastened to her, +thinking her afraid. + +"Do you suppose it may be Massasoit and Squanto?" Constance asked at +once. + +"Let us hope so," said John Alden, looking with eager interest at the +Indians. "We hope to make a treaty with Massasoit." + +"Before you sail?" inquired Constance, guilelessly. + +"Why, I am decided to cast my lot in with the colony, sweet Constance," +said John, trying, but failing, to keep from looking at Priscilla. + +"Pris?" cried Constance, and waited. + +Priscilla threw her arms around Constance and hid her face, crying on +her shoulder. + +"My people are all dead, Connie, and I alone survive of us all on the +_Mayflower_! Even my brother Joseph died; you know it, Connie! Do you +blame me?" she sobbed. + +"Oh, Prissy, dear Prissy!" Constance laughed at this piteous appeal. +"Just as though you did not find John Alden most likeable when we were +sailing and no one had yet died! And just as though you had to explain +liking him! As though we did not all hold him dear and long to keep him +with us! John Alden, I never, never would sit quiet under such insult! +You funny Priscilla! What are you crying for? Aren't you happy? tell me +that!" + +"So happy I must cry," sobbed Priscilla, but drying her eyes +nevertheless. "Do you suppose those savages see me?" + +"I am sure of it," declared Constance. "Likely they will refuse to make +a treaty with white men whose women act so strangely! My father is going +to be as glad of your treaty with Priscilla as of the savage chief's +treaty, an it be made, Master Alden." + +"What is it? What's to do, dear John Alden?" clamoured Damaris, who +never spoke to John without the caressing epithet. + +The young man swung her to his shoulder, and kissed the soil-stained +hand which the child laid against his cheek. + +"I shall marry Priscilla and stay in Plymouth, not go back to England at +all! Does that please you, little maid?" he cried, gaily. + +Damaris scowled at him, weighing the case. + +"If you like me best," she said doubtfully. + +"Of a certainty!" affirmed John Alden, for once disregarding scruples. +"Could I swing up Priscilla on my shoulder like this, I ask you? Why, +she's not even a little girl!" + +And confiding little Damaris was satisfied. + +By this time the band of savages had advanced to the point of the road +nearest to where the girls and John Alden were working. + +"We must go to greet them lest they find us remiss. We do not know the +workings of their minds," said John Alden, striding down toward them, +followed by the somewhat timorous group of grown and little girls, +Damaris clinging to him, with one hand on Constance, in fearful +enjoyment of the wonderful sight. + +"Welcome!" said John Alden, coming across the undergrowth to where the +savages awaited him. "If you come in friendship, as I see you do, +welcome, my brothers." + +"Welcome," said an Indian, stepping somewhat in advance. "We come in +friendship. I am Squanto who know your race. I have been in England; I +have seen the king. I am bring you friendship. This is Massasoit, the +great chief. You are not the great white chief. He is old a little. Take +us there." + +"Gladly will I take you to our governor, who is, as you say, much older +than I, and to our war chief, Myles Standish, and to the elders of our +nation," said John Alden. "Follow me. You are most welcome, Massasoit, +and Squanto, who can speak our tongue." + +The singular company, the girls in their deep bonnets to shade them from +the sun, the Indians in their paint and gay nodding feathers, the +children divided between keen enjoyment of the novelty and equally keen +fear of what might happen next, with John Alden the only white man, came +down into Plymouth settlement, not yet so built up as to suggest the +name. + +Governor Carver was busied with William Bradford over the records of the +colony, from which they were making extracts to dispatch to England in +the near sailing of the _Mayflower_. John Alden turned to Elizabeth +Tilley. + +"Run on, little maid, and tell the governor and elders whom we bring," +he said. + +Elizabeth darted into the house, earning a frown from the governor for +her lack of manners, but instantly forgiven when she cried: + +"John Alden and we who were working in the field are bringing Your +Excellency the Indian chief Massasoit, and Squanto, who talks to us in +English wonderful to hear, when you look at his feathers and painted +face! And John Alden sent me on to tell you. And, there are other +Indians with them. And, oh, Governor Carver, shall I tell the women in +the community house to cook meat for their dinner, or shall it be just +our common dinner of porridge with, maybe, a smoked herring to sharpen +us? For this the governor should order, should not he?" + +Governor Carver and William Bradford smiled. As a rule the younger +members of the community over which these elder, grave men were set, +feared them too much to say anything at which they could smile, but the +greatness of this occasion swept Elizabeth beyond herself. + +"I think, Mistress Elizabeth Tilley, that the matrons will not need the +governor's counsel as to the feeding of our guests," said Governor +Carver kindly. "Tell Constantia Hopkins to bid her father hither at his +earliest convenience. I shall ask him to make the treaty with Massasoit, +together with Edward Winslow, if it be question of a treaty, as I hope." + +Elizabeth sped back and met the approaching guests. She dropped a +frightened curtsy, not knowing the etiquette of meeting a band of +friendly savages. But as they paid no attention to her, her manners did +not matter, and realizing this with relief she joined Constance at the +rear of the procession and delivered her message. + +"Porridge indeed!" exclaimed Mistress Hopkins when Elizabeth Tilley +repeated to her the governor's comment on her own suggestion as to the +dinner for the Indian guests. "Porridge is well enough for us, but we +will set the savages down to no such fare, but to our best, lest they +fall to and eat us all some night in the dark of the moon, when we are +asleep and unprotected! Little I thought I should be cooking for wild +red men in an American forest when I learned to make sausage in my +father's house! But learn I did, and to make it fit for the king, so it +should please the savages, though what they like is beyond my knowledge. +Sausage shall they have, and whether or no they will take to griddle +cakes I dare not say, but it's my opinion that men are men, civilized or +wild, and never a man did I see that was not as keen set on griddle +cakes as a fox on a chicken roost. It will be our part to feed these +savages well, for, as I say, men are men, wild or English, and if you +would have a man deal well by you make your terms after he hath well +eaten. Thus may your father and Elder Brewster get a good treaty from +these painted creatures. Get out the flour, Constantia, and stir up the +batter. Humility and Elizabeth, fetch the jar of griddle fat. Priscilla +Mullins, what aileth thee? Art sleep-walking? Call a boy to fetch wood +for the hearth, and fill the kettle. Are you John-a-Dreams, and is this +the time for dreaming?" + +"It's John-dream at least, is it not, Prissy?" whispered Constance, +pinching the girl lightly as she passed her on her way to do her share +of her step-mother's bidding. + +Later Constance went to summon the guests to the community house for +their dinner. They came majestically, escorted by the governor, Elder +Brewster, William Bradford, Stephen Hopkins, the weighty men of the +colony, with Captain Standish in advance, representing the power of +might. What the Indians thought of these Englishmen no one could tell; +certainly they were not less appreciative of the counsel of the wise +than of the force of arms, having reliance on their own part upon their +medicine men and soothsayers. + +What they thought of the white women's cooking was soon perfectly +apparent. It kept the women busy to serve them with cakes, to hold the +glowing coals on the hearth at the right degree to keep the griddle +heated to the point of perfect browning, never passing it to the burning +point. The Indians devoured the cakes like a band of hungry boys, and +Mistress Hopkins's boasted sausage was never better appreciated on an +English farm table than here. + +The young girls served the guests, which the Indians accepted as the +natural thing, being used to taking the first place with squaws, both +young and old. + +The homebrewed beer which had come across seas in casks abundantly, also +met with ultimate approval, though at first taste two or three of the +Indians nearly betrayed aversion to its bitterness. There were "strong +waters" too, made riper by long tossing in the _Mayflower's_ hold, which +needed no persuading of the Indians' palates. + +After the guests had dined Giles, John, Francis, and the other older +boys, came trooping to the community house for their dinner. + +When they discovered that Squanto spoke English fairly well they were +agog to hear from him the many things that he could tell them. + +"Stay with us; they do not need you," they implored, but Squanto, +mindful of his duties as interpreter, reluctantly left them presently. +Massasoit and his other companions returned with the white men to the +conclave house, which was the governor's and Elder Brewster's home. + +"I go but wish I might stay a little hour," said Squanto. He won +Mistress Eliza's heart, with Mistress White's, by his evident +friendliness and desire to stay with them. + +After this Damaris and the children could not fear him, and thus at his +first introduction, Squanto, who was to become the friend and reliance +of the colony, became what is even more, the friend of the little +children. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +Treaties + + +The girls of the plantation were gathered together in Stephen Hopkins's +house. The logs on the hearth were ash-strewn to check their burning yet +to hold them ready to burn when the hour for preparing supper was come +and the ashes raked away. + +Dame Eliza Hopkins had betaken herself to William Bradford's house, the +baby, Oceanus, seated astride her hip in her favourite manner of +carrying him; she protested that she could not endure the gabble of the +girls, but in truth she greatly desired to discuss with Mistress +Bradford, of whom she stood somewhat in awe, the events portending. She +was secretly elated with her husband's coming honour, and wanted to +convey to Mistress Bradford that, as between their two spouses, Stephen +Hopkins was the better man. + +Constance, sitting beside the smothered hearth fire, might be +considered, since it was at her father's hearthstone the girls were +gathered, as the hostess of the occasion, but the gathering was for +work, not formalities, and, in any case, Constance was too preoccupied +with her task to pay attention to aught else. + +Only the older girls were bidden, but little Damaris was there by right +of tenancy. She sat at Constance's feet, worshipping her, as she turned +and twisted their father's coat, skilfully furbishing it with new +buttons and new binding. + +"May Mr. Hopkins wear velvet, Constance?" asked Humility Cooper, +suddenly; she too had been watching Constance work. "Did not Elder +Brewster exhort us to utmost plainness of clothing, as becomes the +saints, who set more store upon heavenly raiment than earthly +splendour?" + +Constance looked up laughingly, pushing out of her eyes her waving locks +which had strayed from her cap; she used the back of the hand that held +her needle, pulled at great length through a button which she was +fastening upon her father's worn velvet coat. + +"Oh, Humility, splendour?" she laughed. "When I am trying hard to make +this old coat passing decent? Isn't it necessary for us all to wear what +we have, willy-nilly, since nothing else is obtainable, garments not yet +growing on New World bushes? I do believe that some of the brethren +discussed Stephen Hopkins's velvet coat, and decided for it, since it +stood for economy. It stood for more; till a ship brings supplies from +home, it's this, or no coat for my father. But since he has been +selected, with Mr. Edward Winslow, to make the treaty with Massasoit, he +should be clad suitably to his office, were there choice between velvet +and homespun." + +"What does he make to treat Mass o' suet, Constance? What is Mass o' +suet; pudding, Constance?" asked Damaris, anxiously, knitting her brow. + +Constance's laugh rang out, good to hear. She leaned forward impetuously +and snatched off her little sister's decorous cap, rumpled her sleek +fair hair with both hands pressing her head, and kissed her. Priscilla +Mullins laughed with Constance, looking sympathetically at her, but some +of the other girls looked a trifle shocked at this demonstration. + +"Massasoit is a great Indian chief, small lass; he is coming in a day or +so, and Father and Mr. Winslow will make a treaty with him; that means +that Massasoit will promise to be our friend and to protect us from +other Indian tribes, he and his Indians, while we shall promise to be +true friends to him. It is a great good to our colony, and we are proud, +you and I--and I think your mother, too"--Constance glanced with +amusement at Priscilla--"that our father is chosen for the colony's +representative." + +"Do you suppose that the Indians know whether cloth or velvet is +grander? Those we see like leather and paint and feathers," said +Priscilla. "I hold that our men should overawe the savages, but----" + +"And I hold that brides should be bonny, let it be here, or in England," +Constance interrupted her. "What will you wear on the day of days, +Priscilla, you darling?" + +"Well, I have consulted with Mistress Brewster," admitted Priscilla, +regretfully. "I did think, being a woman, she would know better how a +young maid feeleth as to her bridal gown than her godly husband. But she +saith that it is least of all becoming on such a solemn occasion to let +my mind consider my outward seeming. So I have that excellent wool +skirt that Mistress White dyed for me a good brown, and that with my +blue body----" + +"Blue fiddlesticks, Priscilla Mullins!" Constance again interrupted her, +impatiently. "You'll wear nothing of the kind. I tell you it shall be +white for you on your wedding day, with your comely face and your honest +eyes shining over it! I have a sweet embroidered muslin, and I can +fashion it for you with a little cleverness and a deep frill combined, +for that you are taller than I, and more plump to take up its length, +there's no denying, Prissy dear! We'll not stand by and see our +plantation's one real romance end in dyed brown cloth and dreariness, +will we, girls?" + +"No!" cried Humility Cooper who would have followed Constance's lead +into worse danger than a pretty wedding gown for Priscilla. + +But Elizabeth Tilley, her cousin, looked doubtful. "It sounds nice," she +admitted, "but I never can tell what is wrong and what is right, +because, though we read our Bibles to learn our duty, the Bible does not +condemn pleasure, and our teachers do. So it might be safer to wear dull +garments when we are married, Constance, and not be light-minded." + +"You mean light-bodied; light-coloured bodies, Betsy!" Constance laughed +at her, with a glint of mischievous appreciation of Elizabeth's +unconscious humour that was like her father. "No, indeed, my sister +pilgrim. A snowy gown for Pris, though I fashion it, who am not too +skilful. Oh, Francis Billington, how you scared me!" she cried, jumping +to her feet and upsetting Damaris who leaned upon her, as Francis +Billington burst into the room, out of breath, but full of importance. + +"Nothing to fear with me about, girls," he assured the roomful. "But +great news! Massasoit has come, marched in upon us before we expected +him, and the treaty is to be made to-morrow. Squanto is as proud and +delighted as----" + +Squanto himself appeared in the doorway at that moment, a smile mantling +his high cheek bones and a gleam in his eyes that betrayed the +importance that his pride tried to conceal. + +"Chief come, English girls," he announced. "No more you be fear Indian; +Massasoit tell you be no more fear, he and Squanto fight for you, and he +say true. No more fear, little English girl!" he laid his hand +protectingly upon Damaris's head and the child smiled up at him, +confidingly. + +Giles came fast upon Squanto's heels. His face was flushed, his eyes +kindled; Constance saw with a leap of her heart that he looked like the +lad she had loved in England and had lost in the New World. + +"Got Father's coat ready, Con?" he asked. "There's to be a counsel held, +and my father is to preside over it on our side, arranging with +Massasoit. My father is to settle with him for the colony--of course +Mr. Winslow will have his say, also." + +"I meant to furbish the coat somewhat more, Giles, but the necessary +repairs are made," said Constance yielding her brother the garment. "How +proud of Father he is!" she thought, happily. "How truly he adores him, +however awry matters go between them!" + +Giles hung the coat on his arm, carefully, to keep it from wrinkles, a +most unusual thoughtfulness in him, and hastened away. + +"No more work to-day, girls, or at least of this sort," cried Constance +gaily, her heart lightened by Giles's unmistakable pride in their +father. "We shall be called upon to cook and serve. Many Indians come +with Massasoit, Squanto?" + +"No, his chiefs," Squanto raised one hand and touched its fingers +separately, then did the same with the other hand. "Ten," he announced +after this illustration. + +"That means no less than thirty potatoes, and something less than twenty +quarts of porridge," laughed Constance, but was called to account by her +stepmother, who had come in from the rear. + +"Will you never speak the truth soberly, Constantia Hopkins?" she said. +"We do not count on two quarts of porridge for every Indian we feed. +Take this child; he is heavy for so long, and he hath kicked with both +heels in my flesh every step of the way. Another Hopkins, I'll warrant, +I've borne for my folly in marrying your father; a restless, headstrong +brood are they, and Oceanus is already not content to sit quietly on his +mother's hip, but will drive her, like a camel of the desert." She +detached Oceanus's feet from her skirt and handed him over to Constance +with a jerk. Constance received him, biting her lips to hold back +laughter, and burying her face in the back of the baby neck that had +been pitifully thin during the cruel winter, but which was beginning to +wrinkle with plumpness now. + +Too late she concealed her face; Mistress Eliza caught a glimpse of it +and was upon her. + +"It's not a matter for laughter that I should be pummelled by your +brother, however young he may be," she cried; Dame Eliza had a way of +underscoring her children's kinship to Constance whenever they were +troublesome. "Though, indeed, I carry on my back the weight of your +father's children, and my heart is worse bruised by the ingratitude of +you and your brother Giles, than is my flesh with this child's heels. +And Mistress Bradford is proud-hearted, and that I will maintain, +Puritan or no Puritan, or whether she be one of the elect of this +chosen company, or a sinner. For plain could I see this afternoon that +she held her husband to be a better man, and higher in the colony, than +my husband, nor would she give way one jot when I put it before +her--though not so that she would see what I would be after--that +Stephen Hopkins it was who was chosen with Mr. Winslow to make the +treaty, and not William Bradford. Well, far be it from me to take pride +in worldly things; I thank the good training that my mother gave me that +I am humble-minded. Often and often would she say to me: Eliza, never +plume yourself that you, and your people before you, are, as they are, +better, more righteous people than are most other folks. For it is our +part to bear ourselves humbly, not setting ourselves up for our virtue, +but content to know that we have it and to see how others are lacking in +it, making no traffic with sinners, but yet not boasting. And as to you, +young women, it would be better if you betook yourselves to your proper +homes, not lingering here to encourage Constantia Hopkins to idleness +when I've my hands full, and more than full, to make ready for the +Indian chiefs' supper, and I need her help." + +On this strong hint the Plymouth girls bade Constance good-bye and +departed, leaving her to a bustle of hard work, accompanied by her +stepmother's scolding; Dame Eliza had come back dissatisfied from her +visit, and Constance paid the penalty. + +The next morning the men of Plymouth gathered at the house of Elder +Brewster, attired in all the decorum of their Sunday garb, their faces +gravely expressive of the importance of the event about to take place. + +Captain Myles Standish, indeed, felt some misgivings of the pervading +gravity of clothing of the civilized participants in this treaty, that +it might not sufficiently impress their savage allies. He had fastened a +bright plume that had been poor Rose's, on the side of his hat, and a +band of English red ribbon across his breast, while he carried arms +burnished to their brightest, his sword unsheathed, that the sun might +catch its gleam. + +Elder Brewster shook his head slightly at the sight of this display, but +let it pass, partly because Captain Standish ill-liked interference in +his affairs, partly because he understood its reason, and half believed +that the doughty Myles was right. + +Not less solemn than the white men, but as gay with colours as the +Puritans were sombre, the Indians, headed by Massasoit, marched to the +rendezvous from the house which had been allotted to them for lodging. + +With perfect dignity Massasoit took his place at the head of the council +room, and saluted Captain Standish and Elder Brewster, who advanced +toward him, then retreated and gave place to Stephen Hopkins and Edward +Winslow, who were to execute the treaty. + +Its terms had already been discussed, but the Indians listened +attentively to Squanto's interpretation of Mr. Hopkins's reading of +them. They promised, on the part of Massasoit, perfect safety to the +settlers from danger of the Indians' harming them, and, on the part of +the pilgrims, aid to Massasoit against his enemies; on the part of both +savage and white men, that justice should be done upon any one who +wronged his neighbour, savage or civilized. + +The gifts that bound both parties to this treaty were exchanged, and the +treaty, that was so important to the struggling colony, was consummated. + +The women and children, even the youths, were excluded from the council; +the women had enough to do to prepare the feast that was to celebrate +the compact before Massasoit took up his march of forty miles to return +to his village. + +But Giles leaned against the casement of the open door, unforbidden, +glowing with pride in his father, for the first time in heart and soul a +colonist, completely in sympathy with the event he was witnessing. + +Stephen Hopkins saw him there and made no sign of dismissal. Their eyes +met with their old look of love; father and son were in that hour +united, though separated. Suddenly there arose a tremendous racket, a +volley of shots, a beating of pans, shouts, pandemonium. + +Captain Myles Standish turned angrily and saw John and Francis +Billington, decorated with streamers of party-coloured rags, which made +them look as if they had escaped from a madhouse, leaping and shouting, +beating and shooting; John firing his clumsy "Bouncing Bully" in the air +as fast as he could load it; Francis filling in the rest of the +outrageous performance. + +But worst of all was that Stephen Hopkins, who saw what Captain Myles +saw, saw also his own boy, whom but a moment before he had looked at +lovingly, bent and swayed by laughter. + +Captain Standish strode out in a towering fury to deal with the +Billingtons, with whom he was ceaselessly dealing in anger, as they were +ceaselessly afflicting the little community with the pranks that shocked +and outraged its decorum. + +Stephen Hopkins dashed out after him. Quick to anger, sure of his own +judgments, he instantly leaped to the conclusion that Giles had been +waiting at the door to enjoy this prank when it was enacted, and it was +a prank that passed ordinary mischief. If the Indians recognized it for +a prank, they would undoubtedly take it as an insult to them. Only the +chance that they might consider it a serious celebration of the treaty, +afforded hope that it might not annul the treaty at its birth, and put +Plymouth in a worse plight than before it was made. + +Mr. Hopkins seized Giles by the shoulders and shook him. + +"You laugh? You laugh at this, you young wastrel?" he said, fiercely. +"By heavens, I could deal with you for conniving at this, which may earn +salt tears from us all, if the savages take it amiss and retaliate on +us. Will you never learn sense? How, in heaven's name, can you help on +with this, knowing what you know of the danger to your own sisters +should the savages take offence at it? Angels above us, and but a moment +agone I thought you were my son, and rejoicing in this important day!" + +Giles, white, with burning eyes, looked straight into his father's eyes, +rage, wounded pride, the sudden revolt of a love that had just been +enkindled anew in him, distorting his face. + +"You never consider justice, sir," he said, chokingly. "You never ask, +nor want to hear facts, lest they might be in my favour. You welcome a +chance to believe ill of me. It is Giles, therefore the worst must be +true; that's your argument." + +He turned away, head up, no relenting in his air, but the boy's heart in +him was longing to burst in bitter weeping. + +Stephen Hopkins stood still, a swift doubt of his accusation, of +himself, keen sorrow if he had wronged his boy, seizing him. + +"Giles, stop. Giles, come back," he said. + +But Giles walked away the faster, and his father was forced to return to +Massasoit, to discover whether he had taken amiss what had happened, +and, if he had, to placate him, could it be done. + +To his inexpressible relief he found that their savage guests had not +suspected that the boys' mischief had been other than a tribute to +themselves, quite in the key of their own celebrations of joyous +occasions. + +After the dinner in which all the women of the settlement showed their +skill, the Indians departed as they had come, leaving Squanto to be the +invaluable friend of their white allies. + +Giles kept out of his father's way; Stephen Hopkins was not able to find +him to clear up what he began to hope had been an unfounded suspicion on +his part. "Zounds!" said the kind, though irascible man. "Giles is +almost grown. If I did wrong him, I am sorry and will say so. An apology +will not harm me, and is his due--that is in case it _is_ due! I'll set +the lad an example and ask his pardon if I misjudged him. He did not +deny it, to be sure, but then Giles is too proud to deny an unjust +accusation. And he looked innocent. Well, a good lad is Giles, in spite +of his faults. I'll find him and get to the bottom of it." + +"Giles is all right, Stephen," said Myles Standish, to whom he was +speaking. "Affairs that go wrong between you are usually partly your own +fault. He needs guiding, but you lose your own head, and then how can +you guide him? But those Billington boys, they are another matter! By +Gog and Magog, there's got to be authority put into my hands to deal +with them summarily! And their father's a madman, no less. I told them +to-day they'd cool their heels in Plymouth jail; we'd build Plymouth +jail expressly for that purpose. And I mean it. I'm the last man to be +hard on mischief; heaven knows I was a harum-scarum in my time. But +mischief that is overflowing spirits, and mischief that is harmful are +two different matters. I've had all I'll stand of Jack Billington, his +Bouncing Bully and himself!" + +"Here comes Connie. I wonder if she knows anything of her brother? If +she does, she'll speak of it; if she doesn't, don't disturb her peace of +mind, Myles. My pretty girl! She hurts me by her prettiness, here in the +wilderness, far from her right to a sweet girl's dower of pleasure, +admiration, dancing, and----" + +"Stephen, Stephen, for the love of all our discarded saints, forbear!" +protested Captain Myles, interrupting his friend, laughing. "If our +friends about here heard you lamenting such a list of lost joys for +Constance, by my sword, they'd deal with you no gentler than I purpose +dealing with the Billingtons! Ah, sweet Con, and no need to ask how the +day of the treaty hath left you! You look abloom with youth and +gladness, dear lass." + +"I am happy," said Constance, slipping her hand into her father's and +smiling up into the faces of both the men, who loved her. "Wasn't it a +great day, Father? Isn't it blessed to feel secure from invasion, and, +more than that, secure of an ally, in case of unknown enemies coming? +Oh, Father, Giles was so proud of you! It was funny, but beautiful, to +see how his eyes shone, and how straight he carried himself, because his +father was the man who made the treaty for us all! I love you, dearest, +quite enough, and I am proud of you to bursting point, but Giles is +almost a man, and he is proud of you as men are proud; meseems it is a +deeper feeling than in us women, who are content to love, and care less +for ambition." + +Stephen Hopkins winced; he saw that Constance did not know that anything +was again amiss between the two who were dearest to her on earth, but he +said: + +"'Us women,' indeed, Constantia! Do you reckon yourself a woman, who art +still but my child-daughter?" + +"Not a child, Father," said the girl, truly enough, shaking her head +hard. "No pilgrim maid can be a child at my age, having seen and shared +what hath fallen to my lot. And to-morrow there is to be another treaty +made of peace and alliance, which is much on my mind, because I am a +woman and because I love Priscilla. To-morrow is Pris married, Father." + +"Of a truth, and so she is!" cried Stephen Hopkins, slapping his leg +vigorously. + +"Well, my girl, and what is it? Do you want to deck her out, as will not +be allowed? Or what is on your mind?" + +"Oh, I have made her a white gown, Father," said Constance. "Whatever +they say, sweet Pris shall not go in dark clothing to her marriage! But, +Father, Mr. Winslow is to marry her, as a magistrate, which he is. Is +there no way to make it a little like a holy wedding, with church, and +prayers, and religion?" + +"My dear, they have decided here that marriage is but a matter belonging +to the state. You must check your scruples, child, and go along with +arrangements as they are. There is much of your earliest training, of +your sainted mother's training, in you yet, my Constance, and, please +God, you will remain her daughter always. But you cannot alter the ways +of Plymouth colony. So be content, sweet Con, to pray for our Pris all +you will, and rest assured they receive blessings who seek them, however +they be situate," said Stephen Hopkins, gently touching his girl's +white-capped head. + +"Ah, well," sighed Constance, turning away in acquiescence. + +Captain Myles Standish and her father watched Constance away. Then they +turned in the other direction with a sigh. + +"Hard to face westward all the time, my friend; even Con feels the tug +of old ways, and the old home, on her heartstrings," said Captain Myles. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +A Home Begun and a Home Undone + + +"Do you know aught of your brother, Constance?" asked Stephen Hopkins +when he appeared in the great kitchen and common room of his home early +the following morning. + +"He hath been away from home all night," Dame Eliza answered for +Constance, her lips pulled down grimly. + +"Which I know quite well, wife," said her husband. "Constance, did Giles +speak to you of whither he was going?" + +Constance looked up, meeting her father's troubled eyes, her own +cloudless. + +"No, Father, but he must be with the other lads. Perhaps they are +serving up some merry trick for the wedding. Nothing can have befallen +him. Giles was the happiest lad yesterday, Father dear! I must hasten +through the breakfast-getting!" + +Constance fluttered away in a visible state of pleasant excitement. Her +father watched her without speaking, his eyes still gloomy; he knew that +Constance lacked knowledge of his reason for being anxious over Giles's +absence. + +"And why should you hasten the getting of breakfast, Constantia +Hopkins?" demanded Dame Eliza. "It is to be no earlier than common. If +you are thinking to see Priscilla Mullins made the wife of John Alden, +it will not be till nine of the clock, and that is nearly three hours +distant." + +"Ah, but I am going to dress the bride!" triumphed Constance. "I'm going +to dress her from top to toe, and coil her wealth of glossy hair, to +show best its masses! And to crown her dear pretty face with it brought +around her brow, as only I can bend it, so Pris declares! My dear, +winsome Pris!" + +"Will you let be such vanity and catering to sinful worldliness, Stephen +Hopkins?" demanded that unfortunate man's wife, with asperity. "Why will +you allow your daughter to divert Priscilla Mullins from the awfulness +of the vows she will utter, filling her mind with thoughts that ill +become a Puritan bride, and one to be a Puritan wife? I will say for +your wife, sir, that she did not come to vow herself to you in such +wise. And when Constantia herself becomes a matron of this plantation +she will not deport herself becomingly if she spend her maidenhood +fostering vanity in others. But there is no folly in which you will not +uphold her! I pray that I may live to keep Damaris to the narrow path." + +"Aye, and my sweet Con hath lost Her mother!" burst out Stephen Hopkins, +already too disturbed in mind to bear his wife's nagging. + +His allusion to Constance's mother, of whose memory his wife was +vindictively jealous, would have brought forth a storm, but that +Constance flew to her father, caught him by the arm, and drew him +swiftly out of the door, saying: + +"Nay, nay, my dear one; what is the use? Let us be happy on Pris's +wedding day. I feel as though if we were happy it would somehow bring +good to her. Don't mind Mistress Eliza; let her rail. If it were not +about this, it would be something else. Come down the grass a way, my +father, and see how the sunshine sparkles on the sea. The day is smiling +on Pris, at least, and is decked for her by God, so why should my +stepmother mind that I shall make the girl herself as fair as I know +how?" + +"You are a dear lass, Con, child, and I swear I don't know how I should +bear my days without you," said Stephen Hopkins, something suspiciously +like a quaver in his voice. + +He did not return to the house till Con had prepared the breakfast. +Hastily she cleared it away, her stepmother purposely delaying the meal +as long as possible. But Dame Eliza's utmost contrariness could not hold +back Constance's swift work long enough to make the hour very late when +it was done, the room set in order, and Constance herself, unadorned, in +her plain Sunday garb, hastening over the young grass to where Priscilla +awaited her. + +No one else had been allowed to help Constance in her loving labour. +Beginning with Priscilla's sturdy shoes--there were no bridal slippers +in Plymouth!--Constance, on her knees, laced Pris into the gear in which +she would walk to meet John Alden, and followed this up, garment by +garment, which she and Priscilla had sewn in their brief spare moments, +until she reached the masses of shining brown hair, which was +Priscilla's glory and Constance's affectionate pride. + +Brushing, and braiding, and coiling skilfully, Constance wound the fine, +yet heavy locks around Priscilla's head. + +Then with deft fingers she pulled, and patted and fastened into curves +above her brow sundry strands which she had left free for that purpose, +and fell back to admire her results. + +"Well, my Prissy!" Constance cried, rapturously clapping her hands. +"Wait till you are dressed, and I let you see this in the glass yonder. +No, not now! Only when the bridal gown is donned! My word, Priscilla +Mullins, but John Alden will think that he never saw, nor loved you +until this day! Which is as we would wish him to feel. They may forbid +us curling and waving our locks in this plantation, but no one ever yet, +as I truly believe, could make laws to keep girls from increasing their +charms! Your hair brought down and shaken loose thus around your face, +my Pris, is far, far more lovely, and adorns you better than any curling +tongs could do it. Because, after all, nature fits faces and hair +together, and my waving hair would not be half so becoming to you as +your own straight hair, thus crowning your brow. Constance Hopkins, my +girl, I am proud of your skill as lady's maid!" And Constance kissed her +own hand by way of her reward, as she went to the corner and gingerly +lifted the white gown that waited there for her handling. + +It was a soft, fragile thing, made of white stuff from the East, +embroidered all over with sprigs of small flowers. It had been +Constance's mother's, and had come from England at the bottom of her own +chest, safe hidden, together with other beautiful fabrics that had been +Constance's mother's, from the condemnatory eyes of Stephen Hopkins's +second wife. + +"It troubles me to wear this flimsy loveliness, Constance," said +Priscilla, as the gown drifted down over her shoulders. "And to think it +was thy mother's." + +"It will not harm it to lie over your true heart to-day, dearest Pris, +when you vow to love John forever. It seems to me as though lifeless +things drew something of value to themselves from contact with goodness +and love. Pris, it is really most exquisite! And that deep ruffle that I +sewed around it at the bottom makes it exactly long enough for you, yet +it leaves it still right for me to wear, should I ever want to, only by +ripping it off again! Oh, Priscilla, dear, you are lovely enough, and +this embroidery is fine enough, for you to be a London bride!" + +Once more Constance fell back to admire at the same time Priscilla and +her achievements. + +"I think, perhaps, it may be wrong, as they tell us it is, to care too +much for outward adornment, Con dear. Not but that I like it, and love +you for being so unselfish, so generous to me," said Priscilla, with her +sweet gravity of manner. + +"Constance, if only my mother and father, and Joseph--but of course my +parents I mourn more than my brother--were here to bless me to-day!" + +"Try to feel that they are here, Prissy," said Constance. "There be +Christians in plenty who would tell you that they pray for you still." + +"Oh, but that is superstition!" protested Priscilla, shocked. + +Constance set her face into a sort of laughing and sweet contrariness. + +"There be Christians in plenty who believe it," she repeated. "And it +seems a comforting and innocent enough thing to me. Art ready now, +Priscilla? But before you go, kiss me here the kind of good-bye that we +cannot take in public; my good-bye to dear Priscilla Mullins; your +good-bye to Con, with whom, though dear friends we remain for aye, +please God, you never again will be just the same close gossip that we +have been as maids together, on ship-board and land, through sore grief +and hardships, yet with abounding laughter when we had half a chance to +smile." + +"Why, Con, don't make me cry!" begged Priscilla, holding Constance +tight, her eyes filling with tears. "You speak sadly, and like one years +older than yourself, who had learned the changes of our mortal life. +I'll not love you less that I am married." + +"Yes, you will, Pris! Or, if not less, at least differently. For maids +are one in simple interests, quick to share tears and laughter, while +the young matron is occupied with graver matters, and there is not +oneness between them. It is right so, but----Well, then, kiss me +good-bye, Pris, my comrade, and bid Mistress John Alden, when you know +her, love me well for your sweet sake," insisted Constance, not far from +tears herself. + +Quietly the two girls stole out of the bedroom, into the common room of +the new house which Doctor Fuller had built for the reception of his +wife, whose coming from England he eagerly awaited. The widow White and +Priscilla had been lodged there, helping the doctor to get it in order. + +"You look well, Priscilla," said Mrs. White. "Say what they will, there +is something in the notion of a young maiden going in white to her +marriage. Your friends are waiting you outside. I wish you well, my +daughter, and may you be blessed in all your undertakings." + +Priscilla went to the door and Constance opened it for her, stepping +back to let the bride precede her. Beyond it were waiting the young +girls of the settlement; Humility Cooper and her cousin, Elizabeth +Tilley, caught Priscilla by the hands. + +"How fair you are, dear!" cried Humility. "The children begged to be +allowed to come to your wedding, and they are all waiting at Mr. +Winslow's, for you were always their great friend, and there is scarce a +limit to their love for John Alden." + +"Surely let the children come!" said Priscilla. "They are first of all +of us, and will win blessings for John Alden and me." + +The girls fell into line ahead of her, and Priscilla walked down Leyden +Street, the short distance that lay between the doctor's house and +Edward Winslow's, her head bent, her eyes upon the ground, the colour +faded from her fresh-tinted face. At the magistrate's house the elders +of the little community were gathered, waiting. John Alden came out and +met his bride on the narrow, sanded walk, and led her soberly into the +house and up to Edward Winslow, who awaited them in his plain, +close-buttoned coat, with its broad collar and cuffs of white linen +newly and stiffly starched and ironed. + +It was a brief ceremony, divested of all but the necessary questions and +replies, yet to all present it was not lacking in impressiveness, for +the memory of recent suffering was vivid in every mind; the longing for +the many who were dead was poignant, and the consciousness of the +uncertainty of the future of the young people, who were thus beginning +their life together, was acute, though no one would have allowed its +expression, lest it imply a lack of faith. + +When Mr. Winslow had pronounced John and Priscilla man and wife, Elder +William Brewster arose and, with extended hands, called down upon their +heads the blessing of the God of Israel, and prayed for their welfare in +this world, their reward in the world to come. + +Without any of the merriment which accompanied congratulations and +salutations at a marriage in England, these serious men and women came +up in turn and gravely kissed the bride upon her cheek, and shook John +Alden's hand. Yet each one was fond of Priscilla and had grieved with +her on her father's, mother's, and brother's deaths, and each one +honoured and truly was attached to John Alden. + +But even in Plymouth colony youth had to be more or less youthful. + +"Come, now; we're taking you home!" cried Francis Billington. "Fall in, +girls and boys, big and little, grown folks as well, if only you will, +and let us see our bride and her man started in their new home! And who +remembers a rousing chorus?" + +John Alden had been building his house with the help of the older boys; +to it now he was taking Priscilla on her wedding journey, made on her +own feet, a distance of a few hundred yards. + +"No rousing choruses here, sir," said Edward Winslow, sternly. "If you +will escort our friends to their home--and to that there can be no +objection--let it be to the sound of godly psalms, not to profane +songs." + +"You offer us youngsters little inducement to marry when our time +comes," muttered Francis, but he took good care that Mr. Winslow should +not hear him, having no desire to run counter at that moment to Mr. +Winslow's will, knowing that he and Jack were already in danger of being +dealt with by the authorities. And where was Jack? He had not seen his +brother since the previous day. + +Boys and young men in advance, girls and the younger women following, +the bridal pair bringing up the rear, the little procession went up +Leyden Street and drew up at the door of the exceedingly small house +which John Alden had made for his wife. Francis, who had constituted +himself master of ceremonies, made the escort divide into two lines and, +between them, John and Priscilla walked into their house. And with that +the wedding was over. + +For an instant the young people held their places, staring across the +space that separated them, with the blank feeling that always follows +after the end of an event long anticipated. + +Then Constance turned with a sigh, looking about her, wondering if she +really were to resume her work-a-day tasks, first of all get dinner. + +She met her father's intent gaze and his look startled her. He beckoned +her, and she stepped back out of the line and joined him. + +"Giles, Constance; where is he?" demanded Stephen Hopkins. + +"Father, I don't know! Isn't he here?" she cried. + +"He is not here, nor is John Billington," said her father. "No one has +seen either of them since last night. Is it likely that they would +absent themselves willingly from this wedding; Giles, who is so fond of +John Alden; John Billington, who is so fond of anything whatever that +breaks the monotony of the days?" + +Constance shook her head. "No, Father," she whispered. + +"No. And you have no clue to this disappearance, Constance?" her father +insisted. + +"Father, Father, no; no, indeed!" protested Constance. "I did not so +much as miss the boys from among us. But what could have befallen them? +It can't be that they have come to harm?" + +"Constance," said her father with a visible effort, "Giles was deeply +angry with me yesterday----" + +"Father, dear Father, you are quite wrong!" Constance interrupted him. +"There was no mistaking how delighted Giles was with your making the +treaty. Indeed I saw in him all the old-time love and pride in you that +we used to make a jest--but how we liked it!--in the dear days across +the water, when we were children." + +Stephen Hopkins let her have her say. Then he shook his head. + +"It may all be as you say, Constance," he said, sadly. "I also felt in +Giles, saw in his face, the affection I have missed of late. But when +the Billingtons came making that disturbance I went out--angry, Con; I +admit it--and accused Giles of abetting them in what might have caused +us serious trouble. And he, in turn, was furiously angry with me. He did +not reply to my accusation, but spoke impertinently to me, and went +away. I have not seen him since." + +"Oh, Father, Father!" gasped Constance, her lips trembling, her face +pale. + +"I know, my daughter," said Stephen Hopkins, almost humbly. "But it was +an outrageous thing to risk offending our new allies, and inviting the +death of us all. And Giles did not deny having a hand in it, remember. +But I confess that I should have first asked him whether he had, or +not." + +"Poor Father," said Constance, gently. "It is hard enough to be anxious +about your boy without being afraid that you wronged him. How I wish +that Giles would not always stand upon his dignity, and scorn speech! +How I wish, how I pray, that you may come to understand each other, to +trust each other, and be as we were when you trotted Giles and me upon +your knees, and I sometimes feared that you liked me less than you did +your handsome boy, who was so like you." + +"Who _is_ so like me," her father corrected her. "You were right, Con, +when you said that Giles and I were too alike to get on well together; +the same quick temper, rash action, swift conclusions." + +"The same warm heart, high honour, complete loyalty," Constance amended, +swiftly. + +"Father, if you could but once and for ever grasp that! Giles is you +again in your best traits. He can be the reliance that you are, but if +he turns wrong----" + +She paused and her father groaned. + +"Ah, Constance, you are partial to me, yet you stab me. If I have turned +him wrong, is what you would say! How womanly you are grown, my +daughter, and how like your dead mother! But, Con, this is no time to +stand discussing traits, not even to adjust the blame of this wretched +business. How shall I find the boy?" + +"Why, for that, Father, you know far better than I," said Constance, +gently, taking her father's arm. "Let us go home, dear man. I should +think a party to scour the woods beyond us? And Squanto would be our +best help, he and Captain Standish, wouldn't they? But I am sure the +boys will be in for supper. You know they are sharp young wolves, with a +scent like the whole pack in one for supper! Giles is safe! And as to +Jack Billington, tell me truly, Father, can you imagine anything able to +harm him?" She laughed with an excellent reproduction of her own mirth +when she possessed it, but it was far from hers now. + +Constance shared to the uttermost her father's apprehension. If her +poor, hasty father had again accused Giles of that which he had not +done, and this when he was aglow with a renewal of the old confidence +between them, then it well might be that Giles, equally hot-headed, had +done some desperate thing in his first sore rage. The fact that he had +been absent from the wedding of John Alden, whom he cared for deeply; +that he had missed his supper and breakfast; and that John Billington, +reckless, adventurous Jack, was missing at the same time, left Constance +little ground for hope that nothing was wrong. + +But nothing of this did she allow to escape in her manner of speech. + +She gaily told her father all about her morning: how cleverly she had +lengthened Priscilla's gown, her own mother's gown, lent Pris; how +becomingly she had arranged Pris's pretty hair; all the small feminine +details which a man, especially a brave, manly man of Stephen Hopkins's +kind, is supposed to scorn, but which Constance was instinctively +sympathetic enough to know rested and amused her father; soothed him +with its pretty femininity; relaxed him as proving that in a world of +such pretty trifles tragedy could not exist. + +"My stepmother is not come back yet," Constance said, with a swift +glance around, as she entered. "Father, when she comes in with the baby +you must test his newly discovered powers; Oceanus is beginning to stand +alone! Now I must go doff my Sunday best--Father, I never can learn to +call it the Sabbath; please forgive me!--and put on my busy-maid +clothes! What a brief time a marriage takes! I mean in the making!" She +laughed and ran lightly away, up the steep stairs that wound in +threatening semi-spiral, up under the steep lean-to roof. + +"Bless my sunshine!" said Stephen Hopkins, fervently, as he watched her +skirt whisk around the door at the stairway foot. + +But upstairs, in the small room that she and Damaris shared, his +"sunshine" was blurred by a swift rain of tears. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +The Lost Lads + + +A gray evening of mist drifting in from the sea settled down upon +Plymouth. It emphasized the silence and seemed to widen and deepen the +vacuum created by the absence of Giles and John. For the supper hour, at +which they were enthusiastically prompt to return to give their hearty +appetites their due, came and passed without bringing back the boys. + +Stephen Hopkins pushed away his plate with its generous burden +untouched, threw on his wide-brimmed hat, and strode out of the house +without a word. Constance knew that he had gone to ask help from Myles +Standish, to organize a search, and go out to find the lost. + +Damaris crept into her sister's lap and sat with her thin little hands +in Constance's, mutely looking up into the white, sorrowing face above +her. + +Even Dame Eliza was reluctantly moved to something like pity for the +girl's silent misery, and expressed it in her way. + +"At least," she said, suddenly, out of the deep silence enveloping them, +"here is one thing gone wrong without my sending. No one can say that I +had a finger raised to push your brother out of the right course this +time!" + +Constance tried to reply, but failed. Not directly had her stepmother +had a share in this misfortune, but how great a share had she in the +estrangement between father and son that was at the bottom of the +present misunderstanding? Constance would not remind her stepmother of +this, and no other reply was possible to her in her intense anxiety. + +The night wore away, the dawn came, lifting the fog as the sun shot up +out of the sea. Stephen Hopkins came out of the principal bedroom on the +ground floor of the house showing in his haggard face that he had not +slept. Constance came slowly down the winding stairs, pale, with dark +circles under her eyes which looked as though they had withdrawn from +her face, retreated into the mind which dwelt on Giles since they could +no longer see him, and the brain alone could fulfil their office. + +"There's no sort of use in getting out mourning till you're sure of +having a corpse, so I say," said Mistress Eliza, impatiently. "Giles is +certain to take care of himself. I've no manner of patience with people +who borrow what they can't return, and how would you return trouble, +borrowed from nothing and nobody?" + +Nevertheless she helped both Constance and her father to a generous +bowlful of porridge, and set it before them with a snapped-out: "Eat +that!" which Constance was grateful to feel concealed uneasiness on her +stepmother's own part. + +Another day, and still another, wore themselves away. Constance fought +to keep her mind occupied with all manner of tasks, hoping to tire +herself till she must sleep at night, but nevertheless slept only +brokenly, lying staring at the three stars which she could see through +the tiny oblong window under the eaves, or into the blackness of the +slanting roof, listening to Damaris's quiet breathing, and thinking +that childhood was not more blessed in being happy than in its ability +to forget. + +Stephen Hopkins had gone with Captain Standish, Francis Billington, and +Squanto to scour the woods for miles, although labouring hands could ill +be spared at that season. They returned at the close of their fourth day +of absence, and no one ventured to question them; that they had not so +much as a clue to the lost lads was clearly written on their faces. + +Constance drew her stool close to her father after supper was over, and +wound her arms about him and laid her head on his breast, unrebuked by +her stepmother. + +"Read the fifty-first psalm, my daughter; it was the penitential psalm +in England in my beginnings," Stephen Hopkins said, and Constance read +it in a low voice, which she dared not raise, lest it break. + +An hour later, an hour which had been passed in silence, broken only by +Dame Eliza's taking Damaris up to bed, the sound of voices was heard +coming down the quiet street. Stephen Hopkins's body tautened as he sat +erect, and Constance sprang to her feet. No one ever went outside his +house in the Plymouth plantation after the hour for family prayers, +which was identical in every house. But someone was abroad now; it was +not possible----? + +"It is Squanto," said Stephen Hopkins, catching the Indian's syllables +of broken English. + +"And Francis Billington, and another Indian, talking in his own +tongue!" added Constance, shaking with excitement. + +The door opened; Stephen Hopkins did not move to open it. There entered +the three whom those within the house had recognized; Francis's face was +crimson, his eyes flashing. + +"You come to tell me that my son is dead?" said Stephen Hopkins, raising +his hand as if to ward off a blow. + +"No, we don't! Don't look like that, Mr. Hopkins, Con!" cried Francis. +"Jack and Giles are all right----" + +"Massasoit send him," said Squanto, interrupting the boy, as if he +wanted to save Stephen Hopkins from betraying the feeling that an Indian +would scorn to betray, for Mr. Hopkins had closed his eyes and swayed +slightly as he heard Francis's high boyish voice utter the words he had +so hungered to hear. + +Squanto pointed to the Indian beside him as he spoke. "Massasoit sent +him. Massasoit know where boys go. Nawsett. It not far; Massasoit more +far. Nawsett Indians fight you when you come, not yet got Plymouth +found. Nawsett. Both boys, both two." Squanto touched two fingers of his +left hand. "Not dead, not sick, not hurt. You send, Massasoit say. Get +boys you send Nawsett. Squanto go show Nawsett." Squanto looked proudly +at his hearers, rejoicing in his good news. + +"Praise God from Whom all blessings flow," said Stephen Hopkins, bowing +his head, and Constance burst into tears and seized him around the neck, +while Francis drew his sleeves across his eyes, muttering something +about: "Rather old Jack was all right." + +Dame Eliza came down the stairs, having heard voices, and recognized +them as Indian, but had been unable to catch what was said. She stopped +as she saw the scene before her, and her face crimsoned. She at once +knew the purport, though not the details, of the message delivered +through Squanto by Massasoit's messenger, and that the lost lads were +safe. With a quick revulsion from the anxiety that she had felt, she +instantly lost her temper. + +"Stephen Hopkins, what is this unseemingly exhibition? Will you allow +your daughter to behave in this manner before a youth, and two savage +men? Shame on you! Stand up, Constantia, and let your father alone. So +Giles is safe, I suppose? Well, did I not tell you so? Bad sixpences are +hard to lose; your son will give you plenty of the scant comfort you've +already had from him. No fear of him not coming back to plague me, and +to disgrace you," she scolded. + +"Oh, Stepmother, when we are so glad and thankful!" sighed Constance, +lifting her tired, tear-worn face, over which the light of her gladness +and gratitude was beginning to shine. + +There was nothing to be done that night but to try to adjust to the +relief that had come, and to wait impatiently for morning to arrange to +bring home the wanderers. + +Stephen Hopkins was ahead of the sun in beginning the next day, and as +soon as he could decently do so, he set out to see Governor Bradford to +ask his help. + +"I rejoice with you, my friend and brother," said dignified William +Bradford, when he had heard Mr. Hopkins's story. "Like the woman in the +Gospel you call in your neighbours to rejoice with you that the lost is +found. I will at once send the shallop to sail down the coast and bring +off our thorn-in-the-flesh, young John Billington, and your somewhat +unruly lad with him. As your brother in our great enterprise and your +true well-wisher, let me advise that you deal sternly with Giles when he +is returned to us. He hath done exceeding wrong thus to afflict you, and +with you, all of our community to a lesser extent, by anxiety over his +safety. Furthermore, it is a time in which we need all our workers; he +hath not only deprived us of his own services, but hath demanded the +valuable hours of others in striving to rescue him. I doubt not that you +will do your duty as a father, but let me remind you that your duty is +not leniency, but sternness to the lad who is too nearly man to fail us +all as he hath done." + +"It is true, William Bradford, and I will do my best though it hath +afflicted me that I may have driven the lad from me by blaming him when +it was not his desert, and that because of this he went away," said Mr. +Hopkins. + +"If this were true, Stephen, yet would it not excuse Giles," said +William Bradford, whose one child, a boy, had been left behind in +England to follow his father to the New World later, and who was not +versed in ways of fatherhood to highstrung youths of Giles's age. "It +becometh not a son to resent his father's chastisements, which, properly +borne, may result in benefit, whether or not their immediate occasion +was a matter of justice or error. So deal with your son sternly, I warn +you, nor let your natural pleasure in receiving him safe back again +relax you toward him." + +The shallop was launched with sufficient men to navigate her, Squanto +accompanying them to guide them southward to the tribe that held Giles +and John, in a sense, their captives. + +On the third day after her departure the shallop came again in sight, +nosing her way slowly up the harbour against a wind dead ahead and +blowing strong. There was time, and to spare for any amount of +preparation, and yet to get down on the sands to see the shallop come to +anchor, and be ready to welcome those whom she bore. Nevertheless, +Constance hurried her simple toilet till she was breathless, snarling +the comb in her hair; tying her shoe laces into knots which her +nervousness could hardly disentangle; chafing her delicate skin with the +vigorous strokes she gave her face; stooping frequently to peer out of +her bedroom window to see if, by an impossible mischance, the shallop +had come up before she was dressed, although the one glimpse that she +had managed to get of the small craft had shown that the shallop was an +hour away down the harbour. + +At last her flustered mishaps were over, and Constance was neat and +trim, ready to go down to the beach. + +"Damaris, little sister, come up and let me see that none of the dinner +treacle is on the outside of your small mouth," Constance called gaily +down the stairs. + +Damaris appeared, came half way, and stopped forlornly. + +"Mother says she will take me, Constance," the child said, mournfully. +"She says that you will greet Giles with warm welcome, and that I must +not help in it, for that Giles is wicked, and must be frowned upon. Is +Giles wicked, Constance? He is good to me; I love him, not so much as +you, but I do love Giles. Must I not be glad when he comes, Sister?" + +"Oh, Damaris, darling, your kind little heart tells you that you would +want a welcome yourself if you were returning after an absence! And we +know that the father of that bad son in the Gospel went out to meet +him, and fell on his neck! But I must not teach you against your +mother's teaching! You know, little lass, whether or not I think our big +brother bad!" said poor Constance. "Where is your mother?" + +"She hath gone to fetch Oceanus back; he crawled out of the open door +and went as fast as a spider down the street, crawling, Constance! He +looked so funny!" and Damaris laughed. + +Constance laughed too, and cried gaily, with one of her sudden changes +from sober to gay: "And so Oceanus is beginning to run off, too! What a +time we shall have, Damaris, with our big brother marching away, and our +baby brother crawling away, both of them caring not a button whether we +are frightened about them, or not!" + +She flitted down the stairs with her lightness of movement that gave her +the effect of a half-flight, caught Damaris to her and kissed her +soundly, and set her down just in time to escape rebuke for her +demonstrativeness from Dame Eliza, who returned with her face reddened, +and Oceanus kicking under one arm, hung like a sack below it, and +screaming with baffled rage and the desire of adventure. On the beach +nearly everyone of the small community was gathered to see the arrival. + +Constance stole up behind Priscilla Alden, and touched her shoulder. + +"You are not the only happy girl here to-day, my bonny bride," she +said. + +Priscilla turned and caught Constance by both hands. + +"Nor the only one glad for this cause, Constance," she retorted. "Indeed +I rejoice beyond my powers of telling, that Giles is come to thee, and +that thou art spared the bitter sorrow that we feared had fallen upon +thee!" + +"Well do I know that, dear Pris," said Constance. "Where is my father?" + +"Yonder with William Bradford, Edward Winslow, Elder Brewster; do you +not see?" Priscilla replied nodding toward the group that stood somewhat +apart from the others. Constance crossed over to them, and curtseyed +respectfully to the heads of this small portion of the king's subjects. + +"Will you not come with me, my father?" she said, hoping that Stephen +Hopkins would stand with her on the edge of the sands to be the first +whom Giles would see on arriving, identifying himself with her who, +Giles would know, was watching for him with a heart leaping out toward +him. + +"No, Daughter, I will remain here. I am to-day less Giles Hopkins's +father than one of the representatives of this community, which he and +John Billington have offended," replied Stephen Hopkins, but whether +with his mind in complete accord with his decision, or stifling a +longing to run to meet his son, like that other father of whom Constance +had spoken to Damaris, the girl could not tell. + +She turned away, recognizing the futility of pleading when her father +was flanked as he then was. + +The shallop was beached and the lost lads leaped out, John with a broad +grin on his face, unmixed enjoyment of the situation visible in his +every look; Giles with his eyes troubled, joy in getting back struggling +with his misgivings as to what he might find awaiting him. + +The first thing that he found was Constance, and there was no admixture +in the delight with which he seized his sister's hands--warmer greeting +being impossible before a concourse which would rebuke it sternly--and +replied fervently to her: "Oh, Giles, how glad I am to see you again!" + +"And I to see you, sweet sis! Ah, there is Pris! I missed her wedding. +And there is John Alden!" said Giles, shading his eyes with his hand, +but Constance saw the eyes searching for his father, and merely glancing +at Priscilla and John. + +"Our father is with the other weighty men of our plantation, waiting for +you, Giles. You and John must go to them," suggested Constance. + +Giles shrugged his shoulders. "Otherwise they will not know we are +back?" he asked. "Very well; come, then, Jack. The sooner the better; +then the gods are propitiated." + +The two wilful lads walked over to the grave men awaiting them. + +"We thank you, Governor Bradford, for sending the shallop after us," +said Giles. + +"Is this all that you have to say?" demanded William Bradford! + +"No, sir; we have had adventures. We wandered five days, subsisting on +berries and roots; came upon an Indian village, called Manamet, which we +reckon to be some twenty miles to the southward of Plymouth here. These +Indians conveyed us on to Nawsett still further along, and there we +rested until the shallop appeared to take us off. This is, in brief, the +history of our trip, although I assure you, it was longer in the living +than in the telling. Permit me to add, Governor, that those Indians +among whom we tarried are coming to make a peace with us and seek +satisfaction from those of our community who took their corn what time +we were dallying at Cape Cod, when we arrived in the _Mayflower_. This +is, perhaps, in a measure due to our visit to them, though we would not +claim the full merit of it, since it may also be partly wrought by +Massasoit's example." + +Giles spoke with an easy nonchalance that held no suggestion of +contrition, and William Bradford, as well as Elder Brewster, and Mr. +Winslow, frowned upon him, while his father flushed darkly under the +bronze tint of his skin, and his eyes flashed. At every encounter this +father and son mutually angered each other. + +"Inasmuch as you have done well, Giles Hopkins and John Billington, we +applaud you," said Governor Bradford, slowly. "In sooth we are rejoiced +that you are not dead, not harmed by your adventure. We rejoice, also, +in the tidings of peace with yet another savage neighbour. But we demand +of you recognition of your evil ways, repentance for the anxiety that +you have caused those to whom you are dear, to all Christians, who, as +is their profession, wish you well; for the injury you have done us in +taking yourselves off, to the neglect of your seasonable labours, and +the time which hath been wasted by able-bodied men searching for you. +You have not asked your father to pardon you." + +Giles looked straight into his father's eyes. Unfortunately there was in +them nothing of the look they had worn a few nights earlier when +Constance had read to him the psalm of the stricken heart. + +"I am truly grieved for the suffering that I know my sister bore while +my fate was uncertain, for I know well her love for me. And I regret +being a charge upon this struggling plantation. As far as lies in my +power I will repay that debt to it. But as to my father, his last words +to me expressed his dislike for me, and his certainty that I was a +wrong-doer. I cannot think that he has grieved for me," said poor Giles, +speaking like a man to men until, at the last words, his voice quavered. + +"I have grieved for thee often and bitterly, Giles, and over thee, which +is harder for a father than sorrow for a son. Show me that I am wrong in +my judgment of thee, by humbling thyself to my just authority, and +conducting thyself as I would have thee act, and with a great joy in my +heart I will confess myself mistaken in thee, and thank Heaven for my +error," said Stephen Hopkins. + +Giles's eyes wavered, he dropped his lids, and bit his lip. The simple +manhood in his father's words moved him, yet he reflected that he had +been justified in resenting an unfounded suspicion on this father's +part, and he steeled himself against him. More than this, how could he +reply to him when he was surrounded by the stern men who condemned +youthful folly, and whom Giles resisted in thought and deed? + +Giles turned away without raising his eyes; he did not see a half +movement that his father made to hold out his hand to detain him. + +"Time will right, or end everything," the boy muttered, and walked away. + +Constance, who had been watching the meeting between her two +well-beloveds, crossed over to Myles Standish. + +"Captain Standish," she begged him, "come with me; I need you." + +"Faith, little Con, I need you always, but never have you! You show +scant pity to a lonely man, that misses his little friend," retorted +Captain Standish, turning on his heel, obedient to a gesture from +Constance to walk with her. + +"It is about Giles, dear Captain," Constance began. "He is back, I am +thankful for it, but this breach between him and my father is a wide +one, and over such a foolish thing! And it came about just when +everything was going well!" + +"Foolish trifles make the deepest breaches, Constance, hardest to bridge +over," said Captain Myles. "I grant you that the case is serious, +chiefly because the man and the boy love each other so greatly; that, +and their likeness, is what balk them. What would you have me do?" + +"I don't know, but something!" cried Constance wringing-her hands. "I +hoped you would have a plan by which you could bring them together." + +"Well, truth to tell, Con, I have a plan by which to separate them," +said the captain, adding, laughing--as Constance cried out: "Oh, not for +all time!"--"But I think a time spent apart would bring them together +in the end. Here is my plan: I am going exploring. There is that vast +tract of country north of us which we have not seen, and tribes of +savages, of which Squanto tries to tell us, but which he lacks of +English to describe. I am going to take a company of men from here and +explore to the nor'ard. I would take Giles among them. He will learn +self-discipline, obedience to me--I am too much a soldier to be lax in +exacting obedience from all who serve under me--and he will return here +licked into shape by the tongue of experience, as an unruly cub is +licked into his proper form by his dam. In the meantime your father will +see Giles more calmly than at short range, and will not be irritated by +his manly airs. When they come together again it will be on a new plane, +as men, not as man and boy, and I foresee between them the sane +enjoyment of their profound mutual affection. I had it in mind to ask +Stephen Hopkins to lend me his boy; what say you, my Constance?" + +"I say: Bless you, and thrice over bless you, Captain Myles Standish!" +cried Constance. "It is the very solution! Oh, I am thankful! I shall be +anxious every hour till you return, but with all my heart I say: Take +Giles with you and teach him sense. What should we ever do here without +you, Captain, dear 'Arm-of-the-Colony'?" + +"I doubt you ever have a chance to try that dire lack, my Con," said +Captain Myles, with a humorous look at her. "I think I'm chained here by +the interest that has grown in me day by day, and that I shall die among +you. Though, by my sword, it's a curious thing to think of Myles +Standish dying among strict Puritans!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +Sundry Herbs and Simples + + +Stephen Hopkins and his son drew no nearer together as the days went by. + +Hurt and angry, Giles would not bend his stiff young neck to humble +himself, checking any impulse to do so by reminding himself that his +father had been unjust to him. + +Yet Doctor Fuller, good, kind, and wise, had the right of it when he +said to the lad one day, laying his arm across Giles's shoulders, +caressingly: + +"Remember, lad, that who is right, or who is wrong in a quarrel, or an +estrangement, matters little, since we are all insects of a day and our +dignity at best a poor thing, measured by Infinite standards. But he is +always right who ends a quarrel; ten thousand times right if he does it +at the sacrifice of his own sense of injury, laying down his pride to +lift a far greater possession. There may be a difference of opinion as +to which is right when two have fallen out, but however that be, the +situation is in itself wrong beyond dispute, and all the honour is his +who ends it." + +Giles heard him with lowered head, and knit brows, but he did not resent +the brief sermon. Doctor Fuller was a gentle spirit; all his days were +given over to healing and helping; he was free from the condemnatory +sternness of most of the colonists, and Giles, as all others did, loved +him. + +Giles kicked at the pebbles in the way, the slow colour mounting in his +face. Then he threw back his head and looked the good doctor squarely in +the eyes. + +"Ah, well, Doctor Fuller," he said. "I'd welcome peace, but what would +you? My father condemns me, sees no good in me, nor would he welcome +back the old days when we were close friends. There will be a ship come +here from home some time on which I can sail back to England. It will be +better to rid my father of my hateful presence; yet should I hate to +leave Sis--Constance." + +"May the ship never leave the runway that shall take you from us, Giles, +lad," said the doctor. "You are blind not to see that it is too-great +love for thee that ails thy father! It often works to cross purposes, +our unreasonable human affection. But the case is by no means past +curing when love awry is the disease. Do your part, Giles, and all will +be well." + +But Giles did not alter his course, and when Captain Myles Standish said +to Stephen Hopkins: "We set forth on the eighteenth of September to +explore the Massachusetts. I shall take ten men of our colour, and three +red men, two besides Squanto. Let me have your lad for one of my band, +old friend. I think it will be his remedy." Stephen Hopkins welcomed the +suggestion, as Giles himself did, and it was settled. The Plymouth +company sailed away in their shallop on a beautiful, sunshiny morning +when the sun had scarcely come up out of the sea. + +Giles and his father had shaken hands on parting, and Stephen Hopkins +had given the boy his blessing; both were conscious that it might be a +final parting, since no one could be sure what would befall the small +band among untried savages. + +Yet there was no further reconciliation than this, no apology on the one +side, nor proffered pardon on the other. + +Constance clung long around her brother's neck in the dusk in which she +had risen to prepare his breakfast; she did not go down to see the +start, being heavy hearted at Giles's going, and going without lifting +the cloud completely between him and his father. She bade him good-bye +in the long low room under the rear of the lean-to, where wood was piled +and water buckets were set and storage made of supplies. + +"Oh, Giles, Giles, my dearest, may God keep you and bring you back!" +Constance whispered, and then let her brother go. + +She went about her household tasks that morning with lagging step and +unsmiling lips. Damaris followed her, wistfully, much depressed by the +unusual dejection of Constance, who, in spite of her stepmother's +disapproval of anything like merriment, ordinarily contrived to +entertain Damaris to the top of her bent when the household tasks were +getting done. + +"Will Giles never come home again, Connie?" the child asked at last, and +Constance cried with a catch in her voice: + +"Yes, oh yes, little sister! We know he will, because we so want him!" + +"There must be a better ground for hope than our poor desires, +Damaris," Dame Eliza was beginning, speaking over the child at +Constance; when opportunely a shadow fell across the floor through the +open door and Constance turned to see Doctor Fuller smiling at her. + +"Good morning, Mistress Hopkins; good morning little Damaris; and good +morning to you, Constance lass!" he said. "Is this a day of especial +business? Are you too busy for charity to your neighbours, beginning +with me, and indirectly reaching out to our entire community?" + +Constance smiled at him with that swift brightening of her face that was +one of her chief attractions; her expression was always playing between +grave and gay. + +"It is not a day of especial business, Doctor Fuller," she said, "or at +least all our days are especial ones where there is everything yet to be +done. But I could give it over to charity better than some other days, +and if it were charity to you--though I fear there is nothing for such +as I to do for such as you--then how gladly would I do it, if only to +pay a tittle of the debt we all owe to you." + +"Good child!" said the doctor. "I need help and comradeship in my herb +gathering; it is to be done to-day, if you will be that helper. There is +no wind, and there is that benignity of sun and sky that hath always +seemed to me to impart special virtue to herbs gathered under it. So +will you come with me? We will gather the morning long, and this +afternoon I purpose distilling, in which necessary work your deft +fingers will be of the greatest assistance to me." + +"Gladly will I go," cried Constance, flushing with pleasure. "I will +fetch my basket and shears, put on my bonnet, and be ready in a trice. +Shall I prepare a lunch, or shall I be at home again for dinner?" + +"Neither, Constance; there is yet another alternative." Doctor Fuller +looked with great satisfaction at Constance's happier face as he spoke; +she had been so melancholy when he had come. "I have arranged that you +shall be my guest at dinner in my house, and after it we will to work in +my substitute for a laboratory. Mistress Hopkins, Constance will be +quite safe, be assured; and you, I trust, will not mind a quiet day with +Damaris and Oceanus to bear you company?" + +"And if I did mind it, would that prevent it?" demanded Dame Eliza with +a toss of her head. "Not even with a 'by your leave' does Constantia +Hopkins arrange her goings and comings." + +"Which was wholly my fault in not first putting my question to you, +instead of to Constance directly," said Doctor Fuller. "And surely there +is no excuse for my blundering, I who am trained to feel pulses and look +at tongues! But since it is thus happily concluded, and your stepmother +is glad to let you have a sort of holiday, come then; hasten, Constance +girl!" + +Constance ran upstairs to hide her laughing face. She came down almost +at once with that face shaded by a deep bonnet, a basket hung on her +arm, shears sticking up out of it, pulling on long-armed half-gloves as +she came. + +As they walked down the narrow street Constance glanced up at Doctor +Fuller, interrogatively. + +"And----?" the doctor hinted. + +"And I was wondering whether you were not treating me to-day as your +patient?" Constance said. "A patient with a trouble of the mind, and +also a heart complaint?" + +"Which means----?" The doctor again waited for Constance to fill out his +question. + +"Which means that you knew I was sorely troubled about Giles; that he +had gone without better drawing to his father; that I was anxious about +him, even while wishing him to go; and that you gave me this day in the +woods with you for my healing," Constance answered. + +"At least not for your harm, little maid," said the doctor. "It hath +been my experience that the gatherer of herbs gets a healing of spirit +that is not set down in our books among the beneficial qualities of the +plants, but which may, under conditions, be their best attribute. +Although the singing of brooks and birds, the sweetness of the winds, +the solemn nobility of the trees, the vastness of the sky, the +over-brooding presence of God in His creation are compounded with the +herbs, and impart their powers to us with that of the plants." + +"That is true," said Constance. "I feel my vexations go from me as if my +soul were bathed in a miraculous elixir, when I go troubled to the woods +and sit in them awhile." + +"Of a certainty," agreed the doctor, bending his tall, thin figure to +pick a small leaf which he held up to Constance. "See this, with its +likeness to the halberd at its base? This is vervain, which is called +'Simpler's Joy,' because of the good it yields to those who, like us +to-day, are simplers, gatherers of simple herbs for mankind's benefit. +Now let us hope that this single plant is a forerunner of many of its +kind, for it hath been a sacred herb among the ancients, as among +Christians, and it should be an augury of good to us to find it. Look +you, Constance, I do not mind confessing it to you, for you are not only +young, but of that happy sort who yield to imagination something of its +due. I like my omens to be favourable, not in superstition, though our +brethren would condemn me thus, but from a sense of harmony and the +satisfaction of it." + +"How pleasant a hearing is that, Doctor Fuller!" laughed Constance. "I +love to have the new moon aright, though well I know the moon and I have +naught in common! And though I do not believe in fairies, yet do I like +to make due allowance for them!" + +"It is the poetry of these things, and children like you and me, my +dear, are not to be deprived of poetry by mere facts and common sense," +said the doctor, sticking in the band of his hat the sprig of blue +vervain which his sharp eyes had discovered. + +"Yonder on the side of that sandy hill shall we find mints, pennyroyal, +and the close cousin of it, which is blue curls. There is the prunelle, +and welcome to it! Gather all you can of it, Constance. That is +self-heal, and a sovereign remedy for quinsy. So is it a balm for wounds +of iron and steel tools, and for both these sorts of afflictions, what +with our winter climate as to quinsy and our hard labour as to wounds, I +am like to need abundant self-heal." + +Thus pleasantly chatting Doctor Fuller led the way, first up the sandy +hill where grew the pennyroyal, all along the border of the woods where +self-heal abounded. They found many plants unexpectedly, which the +doctor always hailed with the joy of one who loved them, rather more +than of the medical man who required them, and Constance busily snipped +the stems, listening to the doctor's wise and kindly talk, loving him +for his goodness and kindness to her in making her heart light and +giving her on this day, which had promised to be sad, of his own +abundant peace. + +"Now, Constance, I shall lead you to a secret of my own," announced the +doctor as the sun mounted high above them, and noon drew near. "Come +with me. But do not forget to rejoice in this wealth of bloom, purple +and blue, these asters along the wayside. They are the glory of our new +country, and for them let us praise God who sets beauty so lavishly +around us, having no use but to praise Him, for not to any other purpose +are these asters here, and yet, though I cannot use them, am I humbly +thankful for them. And for these plumes of golden and silver flowers +beside them, which we did not know across the seas. Now, Constance, what +say you to that?" + +He pointed triumphantly to a small group of plants with heart-shaped +leaves, having small leaves at their base, and which twisted as they +grew around their neighbouring plants, or climbed a short distance on +small shrubs. Groups of drooping berries of brilliant, translucent +scarlet lighted up the little plant settlement, hanging as gracefully as +jewels set by a skilful goldsmith for a fair lady's adornment. + +"I think they are wonderfully beautiful. They are like ornaments for a +beautiful lady! What are they?" cried Constance. + +"They are themselves the beautiful lady," Doctor Fuller said, with a +pleased laugh. "That is their name--belladonna, which means 'beautiful +lady.' They are _Atropa Belladonna_, to give them their full title. But +their beauty is only in appearance. If they are a belle dame, then she +is the _belle dame sans merci_, a cruel beauty if you cross her. You +must never taste these berries, Constance. I myself planted these vines. +I brought them with me, carefully set in soil. The beautiful lady can be +cruel if you take liberties with her, but she is capable of kindness. I +shall gather the belladonna now and distil it. In case any one among us +ate of poisonous toadstools, and were seized with severe spasms of the +nature of the effect of toadstools, belladonna alone would save them. +Nightshade, we also call this plant. See, I will myself gather this, by +your leave, my assistant, and place it in my own herb wallet." + +The doctor suited the action to the word, arose from his knees and +carefully brushed them. "When Mistress Fuller comes, which is a weary +day awaiting, I hope she may not find me fallen into untidiness," he +said, whimsically. "Constance, the ship is due that will bring my wife +and child, if my longing be a calendar!" + +"Indeed, dear Doctor Fuller, I often think of it," said Constance. "You +who are so good to us all are lonely and heavy of heart, but none is +made to feel it. The comfort is that Mistress Fuller and your little +one are safe and you will yet see them, while so many of the women who +came hither in our ship are not here now, and those who loved them will +never see them in this world again." + +"Surely, my child. I am not repining, for, though I am opposed to the +extreme strict views of some of our community, and they look askance +upon me for it at times, yet do I not oppose the will of God," said the +doctor, simply. + +"Who of them fulfils it as you do?" cried Constance. "You who go out to +minister to the sick savages, not content to heal your own brethren?" + +"And are not the savages also our brothers?" asked the doctor, taking up +his wallet. "Come then, child; we will go home, and this afternoon shall +you learn something of distilling, as you have, I hope, this morning +learned something of selecting herbs for remedies." + +Constance went along at the doctor's side, swinging her bonnet, not +afraid of the hot September sun upon her face. It lighted up her +disordered hair, and turned it into the semblance of burnished metal, +upon which the doctor's eyes rested with the same satisfaction that had +warmed them as he looked on the generous beauty of aster and goldenrod, +and he saw with pleasure that Constance's face was also shining, its +brightness returned, and he was well content with the effect of his +prescription for this patient. + +Constance had a gift of forgetting herself in an ecstasy that seized her +when the weight of her new surroundings was lifted. With Doctor Fuller +she felt perfect sympathy, and her utter delight in this lovely day +bubbled up and found expression. + +Doctor Fuller heard her singing one of her little improvised songs, +softly, under her breath, to a crooning air that was less an air than a +succession of sweet sounds. It was the sort of little song with which +Constance often amused the children of the settlement, and Doctor +Fuller, that childlike soul, listened to her with much of their pleasure +in it. + + "Blossom, and berry, and herb of grace; + Purple and blue and gold lighting each place; + Herbs for our body and bloom for our heart-- + Beauty and healing, for each hath its part. + Under the sunshine and in the starlight, + Warp and woof weareth the pattern aright. + Shineth the fabric when summer's at end: + The garment scarce hiding the Heart of our Friend," + +Constance sang, nor did the doctor interrupt her simple Te Deum by a +word. + +At the doctor's house dinner awaited them, kept hot, for they were +tardy. After it, and when Constance had helped to put away all signs of +its having been, the doctor said to her: + +"Now for my laboratory, such as it is, and for our task, my apprentice +in medicine!" He conducted Constance into a small room, at the rear of +the house where he had set up tables of various sizes of his own +manufacture, and where were ranged on the shelves running around three +sides of the room at different heights, bowls, glasses of odd +shapes--the uses of which were not known to Constance--and small, +delicate tools, knives, weights, and piles of strips of linen, neatly +rolled and placed in assorted widths in an accessible corner. + +"Mount this stool, Constance, and watch," the doctor bade her. "Pay +strict attention to what I shall do and tell you. Take this paper and +quill and note names, or special instructions. I am serious in wishing +you to know something of my work. I need assistance; there is no man to +be spared from man's work in the plantation, and, to speak the truth, +your brain is quicker to apprehend me, as your hand is more skilful to +execute for me in the matters upon which I engage than are those of any +of the lads who are with us. So mount this high stool, my lass, and +learn your lesson." + +Constance obeyed him. Breathlessly she watched the beginnings of the +distillation of the belladonna which she had seen gathered. + +As the small drops fell slowly into the glass which the doctor had set +for them, he began to teach Constance other things, while the +distillation went on. + +"These are my phials, Constance," he said. "Commit to memory the names +of their contents, and note their positions. See, on these shelves are +my drugs. Do you see this dark phial? That is for my belladonna. Now +note where it is to stand. In that line are poisons. Their phials are +dark, to prevent mistaking them for less harmful drugs, which are on +this other shelf, in white containers." + +The doctor taught, and Constance obediently repeated her lesson, till +the sound of the horn that summoned the settlers to their homes for +supper, and the level rays of the sun across the floor, warned the +doctor and his pupil that their pleasant day was over. + +"But you must return, till you are letter perfect in your knowledge, +Constance," the doctor said. "I have decided that there must be one +person among us whom I could dispatch to bring me what I needed in case +I were detained, and could not come myself." + +"I will gladly learn, Doctor Fuller," said Constance, her face +confirming her assurance. "I have no words to tell you how happy it +makes me to hope that I may one day be useful in such great matters." + +"As you will be," the doctor said. "But remember, my child, the lesson +of the fields: It does not concern us whether great or small affairs are +given us to do; the one thing is to do well what comes our way; to be +content to fill the background of the picture, or to be a figure in the +foreground, as we may be required. Aster, goldenrod, herb, all are doing +their portion." + +"Indeed you have helped me to see that, dear Doctor Fuller," said +Constance, gently. "It is not ambition, but the remembrance of last +winter's hardships, when there was so little aid, that makes me wish I +could one day help." + +"Yes, Constance; I know. Good-night, my child, and thank you for your +patient attention, for your help; most of all for your sweet +companionship," said the doctor. + +"Oh, as to that, I am grateful enough to you! You made to-day a happy +girl out of a doleful one!" cried Constance. "Good-night, Doctor +Fuller!" + +She ran down the street, singing softly: + + "Flower, and berry, and herb of grace;" + +till she reached her home and silenced her song with a kiss on eager +Damaris's cheek. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +Light-Minded Man, Heavy-Hearted Master + + +Constance Hopkins sat at the side of the cave-like fireplace; opposite +to where her father, engrossed in a heavy, much-rubbed, leather-bound +book, toasted his feet beside the fire, as was his nightly wont. + +He was too deeply buried in his reading to heed her presence, but the +girl felt keenly that her father was there and that she had him quite to +herself. The consciousness of this made her heart sing softly in her +breast, with a contentment that she voiced in the softest humming, not +unlike the contented song of the kettle on the crane, and the purring of +the cat, who sat with infolded paws between her human friends. + +Puck, the small spaniel, and Hecate, the powerful mastiff, who had come +with the Hopkins family on the _Mayflower_, shared the hearth with Lady +Fair, the cat, a right that their master insisted upon for them, but +which Dame Eliza never ceased to inveigh against. + +However, Dame Eliza had gone to attend upon a sick neighbour that night, +a fact which Hecate had approvingly noted, with her deep-grooved eyelids +half-open, and in which Constance, no less than Puck and Hecate, +rejoiced. + +There was the quintessence of domestic joy in thus sitting alone +opposite her father, free from the sense of an unsympathetic element +dividing them, in watching the charring of the tremendous back log, and +the lovely colours in the salt-soaked small sticks under and over it +which had been cast up by the sea and gathered on the beach for this +consumption. + +Damaris and baby Oceanus were tucked away asleep for the night. It was +as if once more Constance were a child in England with her widowed +father, and no second marriage had ever clouded their perfect oneness. + +So Constance hummed softly, not to disturb the reader, the content that +she felt not lessened by anxiety for Giles; there were hours in which +she was assured of Giles's safe return, and this was one of them. + +Stephen Hopkins had been conscious of his girl's loving companionship, +though not aware that he felt it, till, at last, the small tune that she +hummed crept through his brain into his thought, and he laid down his +book to look at her. + +She sat straight and prim by necessity. Her chair was narrow and +erect--a carved, dark oaken chair, with a small round seat; it had been +Constance's mother's, and had come out of her grandfather's Tudor +mansion, wherein he had once entertained Queen Bess. + +Constance's dress was of dark homespun stuff, coming up close under her +soft chin, falling straight around her feet, ornamented but with narrow +bands of linen at her neck and around her wrists. Yet by its extreme +severity the Puritan gown said: "See how lovely this young creature is! +Only her fleckless skin, her gracious outlines, could triumph over my +barrenness!" + +Obedient to her elders' demands upon her to curb its riotousness, +Constance had brushed smooth and capped her lustrous hair, yet its +tendrils escaped upon her brow; it glinted below the cap around her +ears, and in the back of her neck, and shone in the firelight like +precious metal. + +Stephen Hopkins's eyes brightened with delight in her charm, but, though +he was not one of the strictest of Plymouth colonists, yet was he too +imbued with their customs to express his pleasure in Constance's beauty. + +Instead he said, but his voice thrilled with what he left unsaid: + +"It's a great thing, my girl, to draw such a woman as Portia, here in +this leathern book. She shines through it, and you see her clever eyes, +her splendid presence, best of all her great power to love, to humble +herself, to forget herself for the man she hath chosen! I would have you +conversant with the women here met, Constance; they are worthy friends +for you, in the wilderness where such noble ladies are rare." + +"Yet we have fine women and devoted ones here, Father," objected +Constance, putting down the fine linen that she was hemstitching for her +father's wearing. He noted the slender, supple hands, long-fingered, +graceful, yet a womanly hand, made for loyalty. + +"Far be it from me to belittle them who recognized their hard and +repulsive duty in the plague last winter, and performed it with utter +self-renunciation," said Stephen Hopkins. "But, Constance, there is a +something that, while it cannot transcend goodness, enhances it and +places its possessor on a sort of dais all her life. Your mother had it, +child. She was beautiful, charming, winsome, gracious, yet had she a +lordly way with her; you see it in a fine-bred steed; I know not how to +describe it. She was mettlesome, spirited. It was as if she did the +right with a sort of inborn scorn for aught low; had made her choice at +birth for true nobility and could but abide by it for aye, having made +that choice. You have much of her, my lass, and I am daily thankful for +it. A fine lady, was your exquisite young mother, and that says it, +though the term is lowered by common usage. I would that you could have +known her, my poor child! It was a loss hard to accept that you were +deprived of her too soon, and never could have her direct impress upon +you. And yet, thank Heaven, she hath left it upon you in mothering you, +though the memory of her doth not bless you. And you sit here, upon a +Plymouth hearthstone, far from the civilization that produced her, and +to this I brought you!" + +"Oh, Father, Father, my darling!" cried Constance, flinging aside her +work and dropping upon her knees beside him, for his voice quivered with +an emotion that he never before had allowed to escape him, as he uttered +a self-reproach that no one knew he harboured. "Oh, my father, dearest, +don't you know that I am happy here? And are you not here with me? +However fine a lady my sweet mother was--and for your sake I am glad +indeed if you see anything of her in me!--yet was she no truer lady than +you are a fine gentleman. And with you I need no better exemplar. As +time goes on we shall receive from England much of the good we have left +behind; our colony will grow and prosper; we shall not be crude, +unlettered. And how truly noble are many of our company, not only you, +but Governor Bradford, Mr. Brewster, Mr. Winslow; their wives; our Arm, +Captain Myles; and--dearest of all, save you--Doctor Fuller! No maiden +need lack of models who has these! But indeed, I want to be all that you +would have me to be! I cannot say how glad I am if you see in me +anything of my mother! Not for my sake; for yours, for yours!" + +"Portia after all!" Stephen Hopkins cried, stroking Constance's cheek. +"That proves how well he knew, great Will of Warwickshire--which is our +county also, my lass! Not for their own sake do true women value their +charm, but for him they love. 'But only to stand high in your account I +might in virtues, beauties, livings, friends, exceed!' So spake Portia; +so, in effect, spake you just now. That was your mother's way; she, +too, longed to have, but to give, her possessions, herself----" + +There came a knocking at the door and Constance sprang back to her +chair, catching up her sewing, thrusting in her needle with shortened +breath, not to be caught by her severe Plymouth neighbours in so +unseemly a thing as betraying love for her father, leaning on his knee. + +Mr. Hopkins answered the summons, and there entered Francis Eaton, Mr. +Allerton, and John Howland, who having come to Plymouth as the servant +of Governor Carver, was now living in the colony with his articles of +bondage annulled, and was inclined to exceed in severity the other +Puritans, as one who had not long had authority even over himself. + +"Peace be to you, Mr. Hopkins," said John Howland, gravely. "Mistress +Constantia, I wish you a good evening. Sir, we are come to consult you +as to certain provisions to be made for the winter to come, as to care +of the sick, should there be many----. Will that great beast bite? She +seems not to like me, and I may say the feeling is mutual; I never could +bear a beast." + +"She will not bite you, John; she is but deciding on your credentials as +set forth in the odour of your clothing," said Mr. Hopkins, smiling. +"Down, Hecate, good lass! While I am here you may leave it to me to see +to your dwelling and fireside, old trusty!" + +Hecate wagged her whip like tail and instantly lay down, her nose on her +extended paws, frowning at the callers. + +"But what is this, Stephen Hopkins?" demanded Francis Eaton, picking up +the marred, leather-covered great volume which Stephen Hopkins had laid +down when he had risen. "Shakespeare! Plays! Fie, fie upon you; sir! I +wot you know this is godless matter, and that you are sinning to set the +example of such reading to your child." + +Stephen Hopkins's quick temper blazed; he took a step in the speaker's +direction, and Hecate was justified in growling at her master's lead. + +"Zounds! Eaton," he cried. "I know that an Englishman's house is his +castle, on whichever side of the ocean he builds it, and that I will not +brook your coming into it to tell me--_you_ to tell _me_, +forsooth!--that I am sinning! Look to your own affairs, sir, but keep +your hands off mine. If you are too ignorant to know more of Shakespeare +than to think him harmful, well, then, sir, you confess to an ignorance +that is in itself a sin against the Providence that gave us poets." + +"As to that, Francis Eaton," said Mr. Allerton, "Mr. Hopkins hath the +best of it. We who strive after the highest virtue do not indulge in +worldly reading, but there be those among us who would not condemn +Shakespeare. But what is the noise I hear? Permit us to go yonder into +your outer room, Mr. Hopkins, to satisfy ourselves that worse than +play-reading is not carried on within this house." + +"Noise? I heard no noise till now, being too much occupied to note it, +but it is easy to decide upon its cause from here, though if you desire +to go yonder, or to share the play, I'll not prevent you," said Mr. +Hopkins, his anger mounting. + +"Say, rather, as I seriously fear, that you are too accustomed to the +sound to note it. I will pass over, as unworthy of you and of my +profession, the insult you proffered me in suggesting that I would bear +part in a wicked game," said Mr. Allerton, going toward the door. + +He threw it open with a magnificent gesture and stalked through it, +followed close by the other two, and by Hecate's growl and Puck's sharp +barking. + +Constance had dropped her work and sat rigidly regarding her father with +amazed and frightened eyes. + +Stephen Hopkins went after them, purple with rage. What they saw was a +table marked off at its farther end by lines drawn in chalk. At the +nearer end sat Edward Doty and Edward Lister, the men whom Stephen +Hopkins had brought over with him on the _Mayflower_ to serve him. +Beside them sat tankards of home-made beer, and a small pile of coins +lay, one at each man's right hand. + +Just as Francis Eaton threw open the door, Edward Lister leaned +forward, balanced a coin carefully between his thumb and finger, and +shot it forward over one of the lines at the other end. + +"Aimed, by St. George! Well shot, Ted!" cried Edward Doty. + +"See that thou beatest me not, Ned; thou art a better man than me at +it," said Lister, and they both took a draught of beer, wiping their +lips on their sleeve in high satisfaction with the flavour, the game, +and each other. + +"Shovelboard!" "Shuffleboard!" cried Francis Eaton and John Howland +together, differing on the pronunciation of the obnoxious sport, but one +in the boundless horror in their voices. + +"Stephen Hopkins, I am profoundly shocked," said Mr. Allerton, turning +with lowering brows upon their host. "A man of your standing among us! A +man of your experience of the world! Well wot you that playing of games +is forbid among us. That you should tolerate it is frightful to +consider----" + +"See here, Isaac Allerton," said Stephen Hopkins, stepping so close to +his neighbour that Mr. Allerton fell back uneasily, "it is a principle +among us that every man is to follow his conscience. If we have thrown +off the authority of our old days, an authority mind you, that had much +to be said for it, and set up our own conscience as the sole guide of +our actions, then how dare you come into my house to reproach me for +what I consider no wrong-doing? Ted and Ned are good fellows, on whose +hands leisure hangs heavily, since they do not read Shakespeare, as does +their master, whom equally you condemn. To my mind shovelboard is +innocent; I have permitted my men to play it. Go, if you will, and +report to our governor this heinous crime of allowing innocent play. But +on your peril read me no sermon, nor set up your opinion in mine own +house, for, by my honour, I'll not abide it." + +"By no will of mine will I report you, my brother," said Isaac Allerton, +but the gleam in his eye belied him; there was jealousy in this little +community, as in all human communities. "You know that my duty will +compel me to lay before Governor Bradford what I have seen. Since we +have with our own eyes seen it, there needs no further witnesses." + +"Imply that I would deny the truth, were there never a witness, and +Heaven help you, Plymouth or no Plymouth, brother or no brother! I'm not +a liar," cried Stephen Hopkins, so fiercely that Mr. Allerton and his +companions went swiftly out the side door, Mr. Allerton protesting: + +"Nay, then Brother and friend; thou art a choleric man, and lax as to +this business, but no one would doubt your honour." + +After they had gone Mr. Hopkins went back to his chair by the fireside, +leaving Ted and Ned staring open-mouthed at each other, stunned by the +tempest aroused by their game. + +"Well, rather would I have held the psalm book the whole evening than +got the master into trouble," said Ted. + +"Easy done, since thou couldst no more than hold it, reading being +beyond thee," grinned Ned. "Yet am I one with thy meaning, which is +clearer to me than is print." + +Constance dared not speak to her father when he returned to her. She +glanced up at his angry face and went on with her stitchery in silence. + +At length he stretched himself out, his feet well toward the fire, and +let his right hand fall on Hecate's insinuating head, his left on Puck's +thrusting nose. + +"Good friends!" he said to the happy dogs. "I am ashamed, my Constance, +so to have afflicted thee. Smile, child; thou dost look as though +destruction awaited me." + +"I am so sorry, Father! In good sooth, is there not trouble coming to +you from this night's business?" asked Constance, folding up her work. + +"Nothing serious, child; likely a fine. But indeed it will be worth it +to have the chance it will buy me to speak my mind clearly to my fellow +colonists on these matters. Ah, my girl, my girl, what sad fools we +mortals be, as Shakespeare, whom also these grave and reverend seigniors +condemn, hath said! We have come here to sail by the free wind of +conscience, but look you, it must be the conscience of the few, greater +thraldom than it was in the Old World! Ah, Constance, Constance, we came +here to escape the thraldom of men, but to do that it needs that no men +came! If authority we are to have, then let it be authoritative, say I; +not the mere opinion of men. My child, have you ever noted how much +human nature there is in a man?" + +But the next day, during which Stephen Hopkins was absent from his home, +when he returned at night his philosophy had been sadly jostled. + +He had been called before the governor, reprimanded and fined, and his +pride, his sense of justice, were both outraged when he actually had to +meet the situation. Dame Eliza was in a state of mind that made matters +worse. She had heard from one of those persons through whom ill news +filters as naturally as water through a spring, that her husband had +been, as she termed it, "disgraced before the world." + +"They can't disgrace him, Stepmother," protested Constance, though she +knew that it was useless to try to stem the tide of Dame Eliza's +grievance. "My father is in the right; they have the power to fine, but +not to disgrace him who hath done no wrong." + +"Of course he hath done no wrong," snapped Dame Eliza. "Shovelboard was +played in my father's kitchen when I was no age. Are these prating men +better than my father? Answer me that! But your father has no right to +risk getting into trouble for two ne'er-do-wells, like his two precious +Edwards. They eat more than any four men I ever knew, and that will I +maintain against all comers, and as to work they cannot so much as see +it. Worthless! And for them will he risk our good name. For mark me, +Constantia, shovelboard is a game, and gaming an abomination, and not to +be mentioned in a virtuous household, yet would your father permit it +played----" + +"But you just said it was harmless, and that your father had a table!" +cried Constance. + +"My father was a good man, but not a Puritan," said Dame Eliza, somewhat +confused to be called upon to harmonize her own statements. "In England +shovelboard is one thing; in Plymouth a second thing, and two things are +not the same as one thing. I am disgusted with your father, but what +good does it do me to speak? Never am I heeded but rather am I flouted +by the Hopkins brood, young and old, which is why I never speak, but eat +my heart out in silence and patience, knowing that had I married as I +might have married--aye, and that many times, I'd have you know--I'd +not be here among sands and marshes and Indians and barrens, slaving for +ungrateful people who think to show their better blood by treating me as +they best know how! But it is a long lane that hath no turning, and +justice must one day be my reward." + +When Stephen Hopkins came in Dame Eliza dared not air her grievances; +his angry face compelled silence. Even Constance did not intrude upon +his annoyance, but contented herself with conveying her sympathy by +waiting upon him and talking blithely to Damaris, succeeding at last in +winning a smile from her father by her amusing stories to the child. + +"There is a moon, Constance; is it too cold for you to walk with me? The +sea is fair and silvery beneath the moon rays," said Mr. Hopkins after +supper. + +"Not a whit too chill, Father, and I shall like to be out of doors," +cried Constance, disregarding her stepmother's frown, who disapproved of +pleasure strolls. + +Constance drew her cloak about her, its deep hood over her head, and +went out with her father. Stephen Hopkins placed her hand in his arm, +and led her toward the beach. It was a deep, clear autumn night, the +moon was brilliant; the sea, still as a mirror, gave its surface for the +path that led from the earth to the moon, made by the moon rays. + +At last her father spoke to Constance. + +"Wise little woman," he said, patting the hand in his arm, "to keep +silent till a man has conquered his humours. Your mother had that rare +feminine wisdom. What a comrade was she, my dear! Seeing your profile +thus half-concealed by your hood I have been letting myself feel that +she had returned to me. And so she has, for you are part of her, her +gift to me! Trouble no more over my annoyance, Constance; I have +conquered it. I do not say that there is no soreness left in me, that I +should be thus dealt with, but I am philosopher enough to see that Myles +Standish was right when he once said to me that I was a fool for my +pains; that living in Plymouth I must bear myself Plymouth-wise." + +"Father, have you had enough of impertinence in the day's doings, that +your neighbours should dare to judge you, or will you tolerate a little +more impertinence, and from your own daughter?" asked Constance. + +"Now what's in the wind?" demanded Stephen Hopkins, stopping short. + +"Nay, Father, let me speak freely!" Constance implored. "Indeed there is +nothing in my heart that you would disapprove, could I bare it to your +eyes. Does not this day's experience throw a light upon Giles?" + +"Giles! How? Why?" exclaimed her father. + +"Giles is as like you as are two peas in a pod, dear Father. He does not +count himself a boy any longer. He hath felt that he was dealt with for +offences that he had not done. He has been wounded, angry, sore, +sad--and most of all because he half worships you. The governor, Mr. +Winslow, no one is to you, nor can hurt you, as you can hurt Giles. +Don't you feel to-day, Father, how hard it is for a young lad to bear +injustice? When Giles comes home will you not show him that you trust +him, love him, as I so well know you do, but as he cannot now be made to +believe you do? And won't you construe him by what you have suffered +this day, and comfort him? Forgive me, Father, my dearest, dearest! I do +not mean wrong, and after all, it is only your Constance speaking her +heart out to you," she pleaded. + +For upwards of ten minutes Stephen Hopkins was silent while Constance +hung trembling on his arm. + +Then her father turned to her, and took her face in both his hands, +tears in his eyes. + +"It is only my Constance speaking; only my dearest earthly treasure," he +said. "And by all the gods, she hath spoken sweetly and truly, and I +will heed her! Yes, my Constance, I will read my own bitterness in +Giles's heart, and I will heal it, if but the lad comes back safe to +us." + +With which promise, that sounded in Constance's ears like the carol of +angels, her father kissed her thrice on brow, and lips, a most unusual +caress from him. It was a thankful Constance that lay down beside +Damaris that night, beneath the lean-to roof. + +"Now I know that Giles will come back, for this is what has been meant +in all that hath lately come to us," was her last thought as she drifted +into sleep. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +The "Fortune," that Sailed, First West, then East + + +"There's a ship, there's a sail standing toward us!" + +It was Francis Billington's shrill boyish voice that aroused the Hopkins +household with this tidings, early in the morning on one of those +mid-November days when at that hour the air was chill and at noon the +warmth of summer brooded over land and sea. + +Stephen Hopkins called from within: "Wait, wait, Francis, till I can +come to thee." + +In a moment or two he came out of his door and looked in the direction +in which the boy pointed, although a hillock on the Hopkins land, which +lay between Leyden and Middle streets, cut off the sight of the sail. + +"She's coming up from the south'ard," cried Francis, excitedly. "Most +like from the Cape, but she must have come from England first, say you +not so, Mr. Hopkins?" + +"Surely," agreed Stephen Hopkins. "The savages build no vessels like +ours, as you well know. Thank you, my boy, for warning me of her +approach. Go on and spread your news broadcast; let our entire community +be out to welcome whatever good the ship brings, or to resist +harm--though that I fear not. I will myself be at the wharf when she +gets in." + +"Oh, as to that, Mr. Hopkins, you have time to eat as big a breakfast as +you can get and still be too early for the arrival," said Francis, +grinning. "She's got a long way to cover and a deal to do to reach +Plymouth wharf in this still air. She's not close in, by much. I hurried +and yelled to get you up quick because--well, because you've got to +hurry folks and yell when a ship comes in, haven't you?" + +Mr. Hopkins smiled sympathetically at the boy whose actions rarely got +sympathy. + +"Till ships become a more common sight in our harbour, Francis, I would +advise letting your excitement on the coming of one have vent a-plenty," +he said, turning to reënter the house as Francis Billington, acting on +advice more promptly than was his wont, ran down Leyden Street, throwing +up his cap and shouting: "A ship! A sail! A ship! A sail!" at the top of +his vigorous lungs, not only unreproved for his disturbance of the +peaceful morning, but hailed with answering excitement by the men, +women, and children whom he aroused as he ran. + +The ship took as long to reach haven as Francis Billington had +prophesied she would require. She proved to be a small ship with a +figure-head of a woman, meant to represent Fortune, for she was +blindfolded, but her battered paint indicated that she had in her own +person encountered ill-fortune in her course. + +A number of people were gathered on her forward deck, looking eagerly +for indications of the sort of place that they were approaching. + +"Mr. Weston, knowing that we depend upon him and his brother merchants, +our friends across seas, for supplies, hath at last dispatched us the +long-waited ship," said Mr. Winslow to Mr. Hopkins. + +"With someone, let us hope, authorized to carry back report of us here, +and thus to get us, later on, what we sore need. Many new colonists, as +well as nearly all things that human beings require for existence," said +Stephen Hopkins, with something of the strain upon his endurance that he +had suffered getting into his voice. + +The ship was the _Fortune_--her figure-head had announced as much. When +she made anchor, and her small boat came to the wharf, the first person +to step ashore was Mr. Robert Cushman, the English agent who had played +so large a part in the embarkation of the pilgrims in the _Mayflower_. + +"Welcome, in all truth!" said Governor Bradford stepping forward to +seize the hand of this man, from whose coming and subsequent reports at +home so much might be hoped. "Now, at last, have we what we have so long +needed, a representative who can speak of us as one who hath seen!" + +"I am glad to be here in a twofold sense, Mr. Bradford," returned Mr. +Cushman. + +"Glad to meet with you, whom I knew under the distant sky of home, glad +to be at the end of my voyage. I have brought you thirty-five additional +members of your community. We came first to Cape Cod, and a more +discouraged band of adventurers would be hard to find than were these +men when they saw how barren of everything was the Cape. I assured them +that they would find you in better condition here, at Plymouth, and we +set sail hither. They have been scanning waves and sky for the first +symptom of something like comfort at Plymouth, beginning their anxious +outlook long before it was possible to satisfy it. I assure you that +never was a wharf hailed so gladly as was this one that you have built, +for these men argued that before you would build a wharf you must have +made sure of greater essentials." + +"We are truly thankful for new strength added to us; we need it sore," +said William Bradford. "We make out to live, nor have we wanted +seriously, thus far." + +"The men I have gathered together and brought to you are not provided; +they will be a charge upon you for a while in food and raiment, but +after a time their strength should more than recompense you in labour," +said Mr. Cushman. "Where is the governor? I have a letter here from Mr. +Weston to Governor Carver; will you take me to him?" + +"That we may not do, Mr. Cushman," said Governor Bradford, sadly. +"Governor Carver is at rest since last April, a half year agone. It was +a day of summer heat and he was labouring in the field, from which he +came out very sick, complaining greatly of his head. He lay down and in +a few hours his senses failed, which never returned to him till his +death, some days later. Bitterly have we mourned that just man. And but +a month and somewhat more, passed when Mistress Carver, who was a weak +woman, and sore beset by the sufferings of her coming here, and so +ill-fitted to bear grief, followed her spouse to their reward, as none +who knew them could doubt. I am chosen, unworthily, to succeed John +Carver as governor of this colony." + +"Then is the letter thine, William Bradford, and the Plymouth men have +wisely picked out thee to hold chief office over them," said Robert +Cushman. "Yet your news is heavy hearing, and I hope there is not much +of such tidings to be given me." + +"Half of us lie yonder on the hillside," said Governor Bradford. "But +they died in the first months of our landing, when we lacked shelter and +all else. It was a mortality that assailed us, a swift plague, but since +it hath passed there is little sickness among us. Gather your men and +let us go on to the village which we have built us, a habitation in the +wilderness, like Israel of old. Like old Plymouth at home it is in name, +but in naught else, yet it is not wholly without its pleasant comfort, +and we are learning to hold it dear, as Providence hath wisely made man +to cherish his home." + +Mr. Cushman marshalled his sorry-looking followers; they were destitute +of bedding, household utensils, even scantily provided with clothes, so +that they came off the _Fortune_ in the lightest marching order, and +filled with dismay the Plymouth people who saw that their deficiencies +would fall upon the first settlers to supply. + +"Well, Constantia, and so hath it ever been, and ever will be, world +without end, that they who till and sow do not reap, but rather some +idle blackbird that sits upon a stump whistling for the corn that grows +for him, and not for his betters," scolded Dame Eliza who, like others +of the women who were hard-working and economical, felt especially +aggrieved by this invoice of destitution. "It is we, and such as we who +may feed them, even to Damaris. Get a pan of dried beans, child, and +shell 'em, for it is against our profession to see them starve, but why +the agents sent, or Robert Cushman brought, beggars to us it would +puzzle Solomon to say. Where will your warm cloak come from that you +hoped for, think you, Constantia, with these people requiring our +stores? Do they take Plymouth for Beggars' Bush?" + +"I came hither walking beside my father, who was talking with Mr. +Winslow, Stepmother," said Constance, noting with amusement that her +stepmother commiserated her probable sacrifice, swayed by her +indignation to make common cause with Constance, whose desires she +rarely noted. "They said that it would put a burden upon us to provide +for these new-comers at first, but that they looked like able and +hopeful subjects to requite us abundantly, and that soon. So never mind +my cloak; I will darn and patch my old one, and at least there be none +here who will not know why I go shabby, and be in similar stress." + +The door opened and Humility Cooper entered. She kissed Constance on the +cheek, a manner of greeting not common among these Puritan maidens, +especially when they met often, and slowly took the stool that Constance +placed for her in the chimney corner, loosening her cape as she did so. + +"I have news, dear Constance," Humility said. + +"How strangely you look at me, Humility!" cried Constance. "Is your news +good or ill? Your face would tell me it was both; your eyes shine, yet +are ready to tears, and your lips droop, yet are smiling!" + +"My news is that same mixture, Constance," cried Humility. "I am sent +for from England. The letter is come by the _Fortune_. She is to lie in +our harbour barely two sen' nights, and then weigh anchor for home. And +I----" + +"You go on her!" cried Constance. "Oh Humility!" + +"And so I do," said Humility. "I am glad to go home. It is a sad and +heavy-hearted thing to be here alone, with only Elizabeth Tilley, my +cousin, left me. To be sure her father and mother, and Edward Tilley and +his wife, who brought me hither, were but my cousins, though one degree +nearer than John Tilley's Betsy; yet was it kindred, and they were +those who had me in charge. Since they died I have felt lone, kind +though everyone hath been; you and Priscilla Mullins Alden and Elizabeth +are like my sisters. But my heart yearns back to England. Yet when I +think of seeing you for the last time, till we meet beyond all parting, +since you will never go to the old land, nor I return to the new one, +then it seems that it will break my heart to say farewell, and that I +cannot go." + +"Why, Humility, dear lass, we cannot let you go!" cried Constance, +putting her arms around the younger girl toward whom she felt as a +protector, as well as comrade. + +"Tut, tut!" said Dame Eliza, yet not unkindly. "It is best for Humility +to go. I have long been glad to know, what we did know, that her kindred +at home would send for her." + +Humility stooped and gathered up Lady Fair, the cat, on her knee. + +"I am like her," she said. "The warmth I have holds me, and I like not +to venture out into the chillsome wet of the dark and storm." + +"Lady Fair would scamper home fast enough if she were among strangers, +in a new place, Humility," cried Constance, with one of her mercurial +changes setting herself to cheer Humility on her unavoidable road. "It +will be hard setting out, but you will be glad enough when you see the +green line of shore that will be England awaiting you!" + +"I thought you would be sorry, Constance!" cried Humility, tears +springing to her eyes and rolling down her smooth, pink cheeks. + +"And am I not, dear heart, just because I want to make it easier for +you?" Constance reproached her. "How I shall miss you, dear little +trusting Humility, I cannot tell you. But I am glad to know that we who +remain are worse off than you who go, and that when you see home again +there will be more than enough there to make up to you for Pris, +Elizabeth, and me. There will be ships coming after this, so my father +and Mr. Winslow were saying, and you will write us, and we will write +you. And some day, when Oceanus, or Peregrine White, or one of the other +small children here, is grown up to be a great portrait painter, like +Mr. Holbein, whose portraits I was taken to see at Windsor when I was +small, I will dispatch to you a great canvas of an old lady in flowing +skirts, with white hair puffed and coifed and it will be painted across +the bottom in readable letters: 'Portrait of Constantia Hopkins, aetat. +86,' else will you never know it for me, the silly girl you left +behind." + +"'Silly girl,' indeed! You will be the wife of some great gentleman who +is now in England, but who will cross to the colony, and you will be the +mother of those who will help in its growth," cried Humility the +prophetess. + +"Cease your foolish babble, both of you!" Dame Eliza ordered them, +impatiently. "It is poor business talking of serious matters lightly, +but Humility is well-off, and needs not pity, to be returning to the +land that we cast off, nor am I as Lot's wife saying it, for it is true, +nor am I repining." + +Humility had made a correct announcement in saying that the _Fortune_ +would stay on the western shore but two weeks. + +For that time she lay in the waters of Plymouth harbour taking on a +cargo of goods to the value of 500 pounds, or thereabout, which the +Plymouth people rightly felt would put their enterprise in a new light +when the ship arrived in England, especially that she had come hither +unprepared for trade, expecting no such store here. + +Lumber they stowed upon the _Fortune_ to her utmost capacity to carry, +and two hogsheads full of beaver and otter skins, taken in exchange for +the little that the Englishmen had to offer for them, the idea of +trading for furs being new to them, till Squanto showed them the value +in a beaver skin. + +On the night of the thirteenth day of the _Fortune's_ lying at anchor +Humility went aboard to be ready in case that the ship's master should +suddenly resolve to take advantage of a favourable wind and sail +unexpectedly. + +Stephen Hopkins offered to take the young girls, who had been Humility's +companions on the _Mayflower_, out to the _Fortune_ early the next +morning for the final parting. It was decided that the _Fortune_ was to +set sail at the turn of the tide on the fourteenth day, and drop down to +sea on the first of its ebb. + +Priscilla, Elizabeth Tilley, Desire Minter, who was also to return to +England when summoned, and Constance, were rowed out to the ship when +the reddening east threw a glory upon the _Fortune_ and covered her +battered, blindfolded figure-head with the robes of an aurora. + +Humility was dressed, awaiting them. She threw herself into the arms of +each of the girls in succession, and for once five young girls were +silent, their chatter hushed by the solemn thought that never would +their eyes rest again upon Humility's pleasant little face; that never +again would Humility see the faces which had smiled her through her days +of bereavement, see Constance who had nursed her back to life when she +herself seemed likely to follow her protectors to the hillside, to their +corn-hidden graves. + +"We cannot forget, so we will not ask each other to remember, Humility +dear," whispered Constance, her lips against Humility's soft, brown +hair. + +Humility shook her head, unable otherwise to reply. + +"I love you more than any one on earth, Con," she managed to say at +last. + +"I am sorry to shorten your stay, daughters, sorry to compel you to +leave Mistress Humility," said Mr. Cushman, coming down the deck to the +plaintive group, "but we are sailing now, and there will be no time when +the last good-bye is easy. You must go ashore." + +Not a word was spoken as Priscilla, Desire--though for her the parting +was not final--Elizabeth and Constance kissed, clung to Humility, and +for ever let her go. Stephen Hopkins, not a little moved himself--for he +was fond of Humility, over whom he had kept ward since Edward Tilley had +died--guided the tear-blinded girls down the ship's ladder, into his +boat, and rowed them ashore. + +The _Fortune's_ sails creaked and her gear rattled as her men hauled up +her canvas for her homeward voyage. + +She weighed anchor and slowly moved on her first tack, bright in the +golden sunshine of a perfect Indian summer morning. + +"Be brave, and wave a gay farewell to the little lass," said Stephen +Hopkins. "And may God fend her from harm on her way, and lead her over +still waters all her days." + +"Oh, amen, amen, Father!" sobbed Constance. "She can't see we are crying +while we wave to her so blithely. But it is the harder part to stay +behind." + +"With me, my lass?" asked Stephen Hopkins, smiling tenderly down on his +usually courageous little pioneer. + +"Oh, no; no indeed! Forgive me, Father! The one hard thing would be to +stay anywhere without thee," cried Constance, smiling as brightly as she +had just wept bitterly. The _Fortune_ leaned over slightly, and sailed +at a good speed down the harbour, Humility's white signal of farewell +hanging out over the boat's stern, discernable long after the girl's +plump little figure and pink round face, all washed white with tears, +had been blotted out by intervening space. + +Before the _Fortune_ had gone wholly out of sight Francis Billington +came over the marsh grass that edged the sand, sometimes running for a +few steps, sometimes lagging; his whole figure and air eloquent of +catastrophe. + +"What can ail Francis Billington?" exclaimed Stephen Hopkins. + +"He looks ghastly," cried Constance. "Father, it can't be--Giles?" she +whispered. + +"Bad news of him!" cried her father quickly, turning pale. "Nonsense, +no; of course not." + +Nevertheless he strode toward the boy hastily and caught him by the arm. + +"What aileth thee; speak!" he ordered him. + +"Jack. Jack is--Jack----" Francis stammered. + +"Oh, is it Jack?" cried Stephen Hopkins, relieved, though he could have +struck himself a moment later for the seeming heartlessness of his +excusable mistake. + +"What has Jack done now? He is always getting into mischief, but I am +sure you need have no fear for him. But now that I look at you----. Why, +my poor lad, what is it? No harm hath befallen your brother?" + +"Jack is dead," said Francis. + +Constance uttered a cry, and her father fell back a step or two, shocked +and sorry. + +"Forgive me, Francis; I had no notion of this. I never thought John +Billington, the younger, could come to actual harm--so daring, so +reckless, but so strong and able to take care of himself! Dead! Francis, +it can't be. You are mistaken. Where is Doctor Fuller?" + +"With my father," said Francis, and they saw that he shook from head to +foot. + +"He was with Jack; he did what he could. He couldn't do more," said +Francis. + +"Poor lad," said Stephen Hopkins, laying his hand gently on the boy's +shoulder. + +"Do you want to tell us? Was it an accident?" + +Francis nodded. "Bouncing Bully," he muttered. + +Stephen Hopkins glanced questioningly at Constance; he thought perhaps +Francis was wandering in his mind. + +"That was poor Jack's great pistol that he took such pride in," cried +Constance. + +"Oh, Francis, did that kill him?" + +"Burst," cried Francis, and said no more. + +"Come home with us, Francis," said Mr. Hopkins. "Indeed, my boy, I am +heartily sorry for thee, and wish I could comfort thee. Be brave, and +bear it in the way that thou hast been taught." + +"I liked Jack," said poor Francis, turning away. "I thank you, Mr. +Hopkins, but I'd not care to go home with you. If Giles was back----. +Not that I don't love you, Con, but Jack and Giles----. I'm +going--somewhere. I guess I'll find Nimrod, my dog. Thank you, Mr. +Hopkins, but I couldn't come. I forgot why I came here. Doctor Fuller +told me to say he wanted you. It's about Jack--Jack's----. They'll bury +him." + +The boy turned away, staggering, but in a moment Constance and her +father, watching him, saw him break into a run and disappear. + +"Don't look so worried, my dear," said Stephen Hopkins. "It is a boy's +instinct to hide his grief, and the dog will be a good comrade for +Francis for awhile. Later we will get hold of him. Best leave him to +himself awhile. That wild, unruly Jack! And he is dead! I'd rather a +hundred pounds were lost than that I had spoken as I did to Francis at +first, but how should I have dreamed it was more than another of the +Billington scrapes? I tell thee, Connie, it will be a rare mercy if the +father does not end badly one day. He is insubordinate, lawless, +dangerous. Perhaps young John is saved a worse fate." + +"Nevertheless I am sad enough over the fate that has befallen him," said +Constance. "He was a kindly boy, and loyal enough to me to make it right +that I should mourn him. And I did like him. Poor Jack. Poor, young, +heedless Jack! And how proud he was of that clumsy weapon that hath +turned on him!" + +"And so did I like him, Connie, though he and Francis have been, from +our first embarkation on the _Mayflower_, the torment and black sheep of +our company. But I liked the boy. I like his father less, and fear he +will one day force us to deal with him extremely." In which prophecy +Stephen Hopkins was only too right. + +"To think that in one day we should bid a last farewell to two of our +young fellow-exiles, Humility and Jack, both gone home, and for ever +from us! Giles liked Jack; Jack stood by him when he needed help. Oh, +Father, Father, if it were Giles!" cried Constance. + +"I know, I know, child," said her father, huskily. "I've been thinking +that. I've been thinking that, and more. My son has been headstrong, but +never wicked. He is stiffnecked, but hath no evil in his will, except +that he resists me. But I have been thinking hard, my Constance. You +were right; I would have done well to listen to your pleadings, to your +wiser understanding of my boy. I have been hard on him, unjust to him; I +should have admitted him to my confidence, given mine to him. I am wrong +and humbly I confess it to you, Giles's advocate. When he comes back my +boy shall find a better father awaiting him. I wounded him through his +very love for me, and well I know how once he loved me." + +"Oh, Father; dear, good, great Father!" cried Constance, forgetful of +all grief. "Only a great man can thus acknowledge a mistake. My dear, +dear, beloved Father!" And in her heart she thought perhaps poor Jack +had not died in vain if his death helped to show their father how dear +Giles was to him, still, and after all. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +A Gallant Lad Withal + + +There was a gray sky the day after young madcap John Billington was laid +to rest in the grave that had been hard to think of as meant for him, +dug by the younger colonists. Long rifted clouds lay piled upon one +another from the line of one horizon to the other, and the wind blew +steadily, keeping close to the ground and whistling around chimneys and +rafters in a way that portended a storm driven in from the sea. + +"I think it's lost-and-lone to-day, Constance," said Damaris, coining +her own term for the melancholy that seemed to envelop earth and sky. "I +think it's a good day for a story, and I'd like much to sit in your lap +in the chimney corner and hear your nicest ones." + +"Would you, my Cosset? But you said a story at first, and now you say my +nicest _ones_! Do you mean one story, or several stories, Damaris?" +Constance asked. + +"I mean one first, and many ones after that, if you could tell them, +Constance," said the child. "Mother says we have no time to idle in +story-telling, but to-day is so empty and lonesome! I'd like to have a +story." + +"And so you shall, my little sis!" cried Constance gathering Damaris +into her arms and dropping into the high-backed chair which Dame Eliza +preëmpted for herself, when she was there; but now she was not at home. +"Come, at least the fire is gay! Hark how it snaps and sings! And how +gaily red and golden are the flames, and how the great log glows! Shall +we play it is a red-coated soldier, fighting the chill for us?" + +"No, oh, no," shuddered Damaris. "Don't play about fighting and guns!" + +Constance cuddled her closer, drawing her head into the hollow of her +shoulder. Sensitive, grave little Damaris had been greatly unnerved by +the death of Jack, and especially that his own pistol had taken his +life. + +"We'll play that the red glow is loving kindness, and that we have had +our eyes touched with magic that makes us able to see love," cried +Constance. "Fire is the emblem of love, warming our hearts toward all +things, so our fancy will be at once make-believe and truth. Remember, +my cosset lamb, that love is around us, whether we see it or not, and +that there can be no dismal gray days if we have our eyes touched to see +the glow of love warming us! Now what shall the story be? Here in the +hearth corner, shall it be Cinderella? Or shall it be the story of the +lucky bear, that found a house empty and a fire burning when he wanted a +home, and wherein he set up housekeeping for himself, like the quality?" + +"All of them, Constance! But first tell me what we shall do when Giles +comes home. I like that story best. I wish he would come soon!" sighed +Damaris. + +"Ah, so do I! And so he will;" Constance corrected instantly the pain +that she knew had escaped into her voice. "Captain Standish will not +risk the coming of cold weather; he will bring them home soon. Well, +what shall we do then, you want to hear? First of all, someone will +come running, calling to us that the shallop hath appeared below in the +harbour. Then we shall all make ourselves fine, and----" + +"Someone is coming now, Con, but not running," cried Damaris, sitting up +and holding up a warning finger. + +"It is a man's step," began Constance, but, as the door opened she +sprang to her feet with a cry, and stood for an instant of stunned joy +holding Damaris clasped to her breast. Then she set the child on her +feet and leaped into Giles's arms, with a great sob, repeating his name +and clinging to him. + +"Steady, Constance! Steady, dear lass," cried Giles, himself in not much +better state, while Damaris clung around his waist and frantically +kissed the tops of his muddy boots. + +"Oh, how did you get here? When did you come? Are they all safely here?" +cried Constance. + +"Every man of them; we had a fine expedition, not a misfortune, perfect +weather, and we saw wonders of noble country: streams and hills and +plains," said Giles, and instantly Constance felt a new manhood and +self-confidence in him, steadier, less assertive than his boyish pride, +the self-reliance that is won through encountering realities, in +conquering self and hence things outside of self. + +"I cannot wait to hear the tale! Let me help you off with your heavy +coat, your matchlock, and then sit you down in this warmest corner, and +tell me everything," cried Constance, beginning to recover herself, the +rich colour of her delight flooding her face as, the first shock of +surprise over, she realized that it was indeed Giles come back to her +and that her secret anxiety for him was past. "Art hungry, my own?" she +added, fluttering around her brother, like a true woman, wanting first +of all to feed him. + +"Well, Con, to be truthful I am always hungry," said Giles, smiling down +on her. + +"But not in such strait now that I cannot wait till the next meal." + +"Here are our father and Mistress Hopkins, hastening hither," said +Constance, looking out the door, hoping for this coming of her father. +"You have not seen Father yet?" + +"No, Con; I came straight home, but the captain has met with him, I am +sure. And, Con, I want to tell you before he comes in, that I have seen +how wrong I was toward our good father, and that I hope to carry myself +dutifully toward him henceforth." + +Constance clasped her hands, rapturously, but had not time to reply +before the door was thrown wide open and Stephen Hopkins strode in, his +face radiant. + +He went up to his tall son and clasped his shoulders in a grip that made +Giles wince, and said through his closed teeth, trying to steady his +voice: + +"My lad, my fine son, thank God I have you back! And by His mercy never +again shall we be parted, nor sundered by the least sundering." + +Giles looked up, and Giles looked down. He hoped, yet hardly dared to +think, that his father meant more than mere bodily separation. + +"I am glad enough to be here, yet we had glorious days, and have seen a +country so worthy that we wish that we might go thither, leaving this +less profitable country," said Giles. "We have seen land that by a +little effort would be turned into gracious meadows. We have seen great +bays and rivers, full of fish, capable of navigation and industry. We +have seen a beautiful river, which we have named the Charles, for we +think it to be that river which Captain John Smith thus named in his +map. The Charles flows down to the sea, past three hills which top a +noble harbour, and where we would dearly like to build a town. I will +tell you of these things in order. Captain Myles will have a meeting of +the Plymouth people to hear our tale; I would wait for that, else will +it be stale hearing to you." + +"Nay, Giles, we shall never tire of it!" cried Constance. "A good story +is the better for oft hearing, as you know well, do you not, little +Damaris?" + +"Well, it hath made a man of thee, Giles Hopkins," said Dame Eliza who +had silently watched the lad closely as he talked. "It was a lucky thing +for thee that the Arm of the Colony, Captain Myles, took thee for one of +his tools." + +"A lucky thing for him, too," interposed Giles's father proudly. "I have +seen Myles; he hath told me how, when you and he were fallen behind your +companions, investigating a deep ravine, he had slipped and would have +been killed by his own matchlock as it struck against the rock, but that +you, risking your life, threw yourself forward on a narrow ledge and +struck up the muzzle of the gun. The colony is in your debt, my son, +that your arm warded death from the man it calls, justly, its Arm." + +"Prithee, father!" expostulated Giles, turning crimson. "Who could do +less for a lesser man? And who would not do far more for Myles Standish? +I would be a fool to hesitate over risk to a life no more valuable than +mine, if such as he were in danger. Besides which the captain +exaggerates my danger. I don't want that prated here. Please help me +silence Myles Standish." + +Stephen Hopkins nodded in satisfaction. + +"Right, Giles. A blast on one's own horn produces much the sound of the +bray of an ass. Yet am I glad that I know of this," he said. + +Little Love Brewster, who was often a messenger from one Plymouth house +to another, came running in at that moment. + +"My father sends me," he panted. "The men of Plymouth are to sit this +afternoon at our house to hear the tale of the adventurers to the +Massachusetts. You will come? Giles, did you bring us new kinds of +arrows from the strange savages? My father saith that Squanto was the +best guide and helper on this expedition that white men ever had." + +"So he was, Love. I brought no new arrows, but I have in my sack +something for each little lad in the colony. And for the girls I have +wondrous beads," added Giles, seeing Damaris's crestfallen face. + +"I will risk a reprimand; it can be no worse than disapproval from Elder +Brewster, and belike they will spare me because of the occasion," +thought Constance in her own room, making ready to go to the assembly +that was to gather to welcome the explorers, but which to her mind was +gathered chiefly to honour Giles. + +Thus deliberately she violated the rule of the colony; let her beautiful +hair curl around her flushed face; put on a collar of her mother's +finest lace, tied in such wise by a knot of rose-coloured ribbon that it +looked like a cluster of buds under her decided little chin. And, +surveying herself in the glass, which was over small and hazy for her +merits, that chin raised itself in a hitch of defiance. + +"Why should I not be young, and fair and happy?" Constance demanded of +her unjust reflection. "At the worst, and if I am forced to remove it, I +shall have been gay and bonny--a wee bit so!--for a little while." + +With which this unworthy pilgrim maid danced down the stairs, seized by +the hand Damaris, who looked beside her like a small brown grub, and set +out for Elder Brewster's house. + +Although the older women raised disapproving brows at Constance, and +shook their heads over her rose-tinted knots of ribbon, no one openly +reproved her, and she slid into her place less pleased with her +ornamentation than she had been while anticipating a rebuke. + +Captain Myles Standish rose up in his place and gave the history of his +explorations in a clear-cut, terse way, that omitted nothing, yet dwelt +on nothing beyond the narration of necessary facts. + +It was a long story, however condensed, yet no one wearied of it, but +listened enthralled to his account of the Squaw-Sachem of the tribe of +the Massachusetts, who ruled in the place of her dead spouse, the chief +Nanepashemet, and was feared by other Indians as a relentless foe, and +of the great rock that ended a promontory far in on the bay, at the foot +of the three hills which were so good a site for a settlement, a rock +that was fashioned by Nature into the profile of an Indian's face, and +which they called Squaw Rock, or Squantum Head. As the captain went on +telling of their inland marches from these three hills and their bay, +and of the fertile country of great beauty which they everywhere came +upon, there arose outside a commotion of children crying, and the larger +children who were in charge of the small ones, calling frantically. + +Squanto, admitted to the assembly as one who had borne an important part +in the story that Myles Standish was relating, sprang to his feet and +ran out of the house. He came back in a few moments, followed by another +Indian--a tall, lithe, lean youth, with an unfriendly manner. + +"What is this?" demanded Governor Bradford, rising. + +"Narragansett, come tell you not friends to you," said Squanto. + +The Narragansett warrior, with a great air of contempt, threw upon the +floor, in the middle of the assembly, a small bundle of arrows, tied +around with a spotted snake skin. This done, he straightened himself, +folded his arms, and looked disdainfully upon the white men. + +"Well, what has gone amiss with _his_ digestion!" exclaimed Giles, +aloud. + +His father shook his head at him. "How do you construe this act and +manner, Squanto? Surely it portendeth trouble." + +"It is war," said Squanto. "Arrows tied by snake skin means no friend; +war." + +"Perhaps we would do well to let it lie; picking it up may mean +acceptance of the challenge, as if it were a glove in a tourney. The +customs of men run amazingly together, though race and education +separate them," suggested Myles Standish. + +"Squanto, take this defiant youngster out of here, and treat him +politely; see that he is fed and given a place to sleep. Tell him that +we will answer him----By your approval, Governor and gentlemen?" + +"You have anticipated my own suggestion, Captain Standish," said William +Bradford bowing, and Squanto, who understood more than he could put into +words, spoke rapidly to the Narragansett messenger and led him away. + +"Shall we deliberate upon this, being conveniently assembled?" suggested +Governor Bradford. + +"It needs small consideration, meseems," said Myles Standish, +impatiently. "Dismiss this messenger at once; do not let him remain here +over night. The less your foe knows of you, the more your mystery will +increase his dread of you. In the morning send a messenger of our own to +the Narragansetts, and tell them that if they want war, war be it. If +they prefer war to peace, let them begin upon the war at once; that we +no more fear them than we have wronged them, and as they choose, so +would we deal with them, as friends worth keeping, or foes to fear." + +"Admirable advice," Stephen Hopkins applauded the captain, and the other +Plymouth men echoed his applause. + +Then, with boyish impetuosity and with laughter lighting up his handsome +face, Giles leaped to his feet. + +"Now do I know the answer!" he cried. "Let the words be as our captain +hath spoken; no one could utter better! But there is a further answer! +Empty their snakeskin of arrows and fill it round with bullets, and +throw it down among them, as they threw their pretty toy down to us! And +our stuffing of it will have a bad flavour to their palates, mark me. It +will be like filling a Christmas goose with red peppers, and if it +doesn't send the Narragansetts away from the table they were setting for +us, then is not my name Giles Hopkins! And one more word, my elders and +masters! Let me be your messenger to the Narragansetts, I beseech you! +They sent a youth to us; send you this youth back to them. If it be +hauteur against hauteur, pride for pride, I'll bear me like the lion and +the unicorn fighting for the crown, both together, in one person. See +whether or not I can strike the true defiant attitude!" + +With which, eyes sparkling with fun and excitement, head thrown back, +Giles struck an attitude, folding his arms and spreading his feet, +looking at once so boyish and so handsome that with difficulty +Constance held her clasped hands from clapping him. + +"Truth, friend Stephen, your lad hath an idea!" said Myles Standish, +delightedly. + +"It could not be better. Conceived in true harmony with the savages' +message to us, and carrying conviction of our sincerity to them at the +first glimpse of it! By all means let us do as Giles suggests." + +There was not a dissentient voice in the entire assembly; indeed +everyone was highly delighted with the humour of it. + +There was some objection to allowing Giles to be the messenger, but here +Captain Standish stood his friend, though Constance looked at him +reproachfully for helping Giles into this risky business. + +"Let the lad go, good gentlemen," he said. "Giles hath been with me on +these recent explorations, and hath borne himself with fortitude, +courage, and prudence. He longs to play a man's part among us; let him +have the office of messenger to the Narragansetts, and go thither in the +early morning, at dawn. We will dismiss their youth at once, and follow +him with our better message without loss of time." + +So it was decided, and in high feather Giles returned to his home, +Damaris on his shoulder, Constance walking soberly at his side, half +sharing his triumph in his mission, half frightened lest her brother had +but returned from unknown dangers to encounter worse ones. + +"Oh, they'll not harm me, timorous Con!" Giles assured her. "They know +that it is prudent to let lie the sleeping English bulldogs, of whom, +trust me, they know by repute! Now, Sis, can you deck me out in some +wise impressive to these savages, who will not see the dignity of our +sober dress as we do?" + +"Feathers?" suggested Constance, abandoning her anxiety to enter into +this phase of the mission. "I think feathers in your hat, Giles, and +some sort of a bright sash across your breast, all stuck through with +knives? I will get knives from Pris and some of the others. And--oh, I +know, Giles! That crimson velvet cloak that was our mother's, hung +backward from your shoulder! Splendid, Giles; splendid enough for Sir +Walter Raleigh himself to wear at Elizabeth's court, or to spread for +her to walk upon." + +"It promises well, Sis, in sound, at least," said Giles. "But by all +that's wise, help me to carry this paraphernalia ready to don at a safe +distance from Plymouth, and by no means betray to our solemn rulers how +I shall be decked out!" + +The sun was still two hours below his rising when Giles started, the +crimson velvet cloak in a bag, his matchlock, or rather Myles Standish's +matchlock lent Giles for the expedition, slung across his shoulder, a +sword at his side, and the plumes fastened into his hat by Constance's +needle and thread, but covered with another hat which surmounted his +own. + +Constance had arisen, also, and went with Giles a little way upon his +journey. Stephen Hopkins had blessed him and bidden him farewell on the +preceding night, not to make too much of his setting forth. + +At the boundary which they had agreed upon, Constance kissed her brother +good-bye, removing his second hat, and dressing the plumes crushed below +it. + +"Good-bye, my dear one," she said. "And hasten back to me, for I cannot +endure delay of your return. And you look splendid, my Knight of the +Wilderness, even without the crimson cloak. But see to it that you make +it swing back gloriously, and wave it in the dazzled eyes of the +Narragansetts!" + +[Illustration: "'You look splendid, my knight of the wilderness'"] + +Thus with another kiss, Constance turned back singing, to show to Giles +how little she feared for him, and half laughing to herself, for she was +still very young, and they had managed between them to give this +important errand much of the effect of a boy-and-girl, masquerading +frolic. + +Yet, always subject to sudden variations of spirits, Constance had not +gone far before she sat down upon a rock and cried heartily. Then, +having sung and wept over Giles, she went sedately homeward to await his +return in a mood that savoured of both extremes with which she had +parted from him. + +The waiting was tedious, but it was not long. Sooner than she had dared +to hope for him, Giles came marching back to her, and as he sang as he +came, at the top of a lusty voice, Plymouth knew before he could tell it +that his errand had been successful. + +Giles went straight to Governor Bradford's house, whither those who had +seen and heard him coming followed him. + +"There is our gift of war rejected," said Giles, throwing down the +spotted snakeskin, still bulging with its bullets. "They would have +naught of it, but picked it up and gave it back to me with much air of +solicitude, and with many words, which I could not understand, but which +I doubt not were full of the warmest love for us English. And I was glad +to get back the stuffed snakeskin and our good bullets, for here, so far +from supplies, bullets are bullets, and if any of our red neighbours did +attack us we could not afford to have lessened our stock in object +lessons. All's well that ends well--where have I heard that phrase? +Father, isn't it in a book of yours?" Giles concluded, innocently +unconscious that he was walking on thin ice in alluding to a play of +Shakespeare's, and his father's possession of it. + +"You have done well, Giles Hopkins," said Governor Bradford, heartily, +"both in your conception of this message, and in your bearing it to the +Narragansetts. And so from them we have no more to fear?" + +"No more whatever," said Giles. + +"Nevertheless, from this day let us build a stockade around the town, +and close our gates at night, appointing sentinels to take shifts of +guarding us," said Myles Standish. "This incident hath shown me that the +outlying savages are not securely to be trusted. I have long thought +that we should organize into military form. I want four squadrons of our +men, each squadron given a quarter of the town to guard; I want pickets +planted around us, and at any alarm, as of danger from fire or foe, I +want these Plymouth companies to be ready to fly to rescue." + +"It shall be as you suggest, Captain," said Governor Bradford. "These +things are for you to order, and the wisdom of this is obvious." + +Constance and Giles walked home together, Constance hiding beneath her +gown the plumes which she had first fastened into, then ripped out of +Giles's hat. + +"It is a delight to see you thus bearing your part in the affairs of +Plymouth, Giles, dearest," she said. "And what fun this errand must have +been!" + +Giles turned on her a pain-drawn face. + +"So it was, Constance, and I did like it," he said. "But how I wish Jack +Billington had been with me! He was a brave lad, Constance, and a true +friend. He was unruly, but he was not wicked, and the strict ways here +irked him. Oh, I wish he had been here to do this service instead of me! +I miss him, miss him." + +Giles stopped abruptly, and Constance gently touched his arm. Giles had +not spoken before of Jack's death, and she had not dared allude to it. + +"I am sorry, too, dear Giles," she whispered, and Giles acknowledged her +sympathy by a touch upon her hand, while his other hand furtively wiped +away the tears that manhood forbade the boy to let fall. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +The Well-Conned Lesson + + +Giles took a new place in Plymouth after his embassy to the +Narragansetts. No longer a boy among his fellow pilgrims, he fulfilled +well and busily the offices that were his as one of the younger, yet +mature men. + +He was given the discipline of the squadron, that, pursuant to Captain +Standish's plan for guarding the settlement, was the largest and +controlled the most important gate of the stockade which was rapidly put +up around the boundary of Plymouth after the defiance of the +Narragansetts. Though that had come to naught, it had warned the +colonists that danger might arise at an unforeseen moment. + +There was scarcity of provisions for the winter, the thirty-five +destitute persons left the colony by the _Fortune_ being a heavy +additional drain upon its supplies. Everyone was put upon half rations, +and it devolved upon Giles and John Alden to apportion each family's +share. It was hard to subsist through the bitter weather upon half of +what would, at best, have been a slender nourishment, yet the Plymouth +people faced the outlook patiently, uncomplainingly, and Giles, +naturally hot-headed, impatient, got more benefit than he gave when he +handed out the rations and saw the quiet heroism of their acceptance. + +He grew to be a silent Giles, falling into the habit of thoughtfulness, +with scant talk, that was the prevailing manner of the Plymouth men. +Between his father and himself there was friendliness, the former +opposition between them, mutual annoyance, and irritation, were gone. +Yet there they halted, not resuming the intimacy of Giles's childhood +days. It was as if there were a reserve, rather of embarrassment than of +lack of love; as if something were needed to jostle them into closer +intercourse. + +Constance saw this, and waited, convinced that it would come, glad in +the perfect confidence that she felt existed between them. + +She was a busy Constance in these days. The warmth of September held +through that November, brooding, slumberous, quiet in the sunshine that +warmed like wine. + +Constance and her stepmother cut and strung the few vegetables which +they had, and hung them in the sunny corner of the empty attic room. + +They spread out corn and pumpkins upon the floor, instructing the +willing Lady Fair to see to it that mice did not steal them. + +Dame Eliza, also, had grown comparatively silent. Her long tirades were +wanting; she showed no softening toward Constance, yet she let her +alone. Constance thought that something was on her stepmother's mind, +but she did not try to discover what--glad of the new sparing of her +sharp tongue, having no expectation of anything better than this from +her. + +Damaris had been sent with the other children to be instructed in the +morning by Mrs. Brewster in sampler working and knitting; by her husband +in the Westminster catechism, and the hornbook. + +In the afternoon Damaris was allowed to play quietly at keeping house, +with Love Brewster, who was a quiet child and liked better to play at +being a pilgrim, and making a house with Damaris, than to share in the +boys' games. + +"Where do you go, lambkin?" Constance asked her. "For we must know where +to find you, nor must it be far from the house." + +"It is just down by that little patch, Connie; it's as nice as it can +be, and it is the safest place in Plymouth, I'm sure," Damaris assured +her earnestly. "You see there is a woods, and a hollow, and a big, big, +great tree, and its roots go all out, every way, and we live in them, +because they are rooms already; don't you see? And it's nice and +damp--but you don't get your feet wet!" Damaris anticipated the +objection which she saw in Constance's eye. "It's only--only--soft, +gentle damp; not wetness, and moss grows there, as green as green can +be, and feathery! And on the tree are nice little yellow plates, with +brown edges! Growing on it! And we play they are our best plates that we +don't use every day, because they are soft-like, and we didn't care to +touch them when we did it. But they make the prettiest best plates in +the cupboard, for they grow, in rows, with their edges over the next +one, just the way you set up our plates in the corner cupboard. So +please don't think it isn't a nice place, Constance, because it is, and +I'd feel terribly afflicted, and cast down, and as nothing, if I +couldn't go there with Love." + +Constance smiled at the child's quoting of the phrases which she had +heard in the long sermons that Elder Brewster read, or delivered to them +twice on Sunday, there being no minister yet come to Plymouth. + +"You little echo!" Constance cried. "It surely would be a matter to move +one's pity if you suffered so deeply as that in the loss of your +playground! Well, dear, till the warmth breaks up I suppose you may keep +your house with Love, but promise to leave it if you feel chilly there. +We must trust you so far. Art going there now?" + +"Yes, dear Constance. You have a heart of compassion and I love you with +all of mine," said Damaris, expressing herself again like a little +Puritan, but hugging her sister with the natural heartiness of a loving +child. + +Then she ran away, and Constance, taking her capacious darning bag on +her arm, went to bear Priscilla Alden company at her mending, as she +often did when no work about the house detained her. + +Giles came running down the road when the afternoon had half gone, his +face white. "Con, come home!" he cried, bursting open the door. "Hasten! +Damaris is strangely ill." + +Constance sprang up, throwing her work in all directions, and Priscilla +sprang up with her. Without stopping to pick up a thread, the two girls +went with Giles. + +"I don't know what it is," Giles said, in reply to Constance's +questions. "Love Brewster came running to Dame Hopkins, crying that +Damaris was sick and strange. She followed him to the children's +playground, and carried the child home. She is like to die; convulsions +and every sign of poison she has, but what it is, what to do, no one +knows. The women are there, but Doctor Fuller, as you know, is gone to a +squaw who is suffering sore, and we could not bring him, even if we knew +where he was, till it was too late. They have done all that they can +recall for such seizures, but the child grows worse." + +"Oh, Giles!" groaned Constance. "She hath eaten poison. What has Doctor +Fuller told me of these things? If only I can remember! All I can think +of is that he hath said different poisons require different treatment. +Oh, Giles, Giles!" + +"Steady, Sister; it may be that you can help," said Giles. "It had not +occurred to any one how much the doctor had told you of his methods. +Perhaps Love will know what Damaris touched." + +"There is Love, sitting crouched in the corner of the garden plot, his +head on his knees, poor little Love!" + +Constance broke into a run and knelt beside the little boy, who did not +look up as she put her arms around him. + +"Love, Love, dear child, if you can tell me what Damaris ate perhaps God +will help me cure her," she said. "Look up, and be brave and help me. +Did you see Damaris eat anything that you did not eat with her?" + +"Little things that grow around the big tree where it is wetter, we +picked for our furniture," Love said at once. "Damaris said you cooked +them and they were good. So then she said we would play some of them was +furniture, and some of them was our dinner. And I didn't eat them, for +they were like thin leather, only soft, and I felt of them, and couldn't +eat them. But Damaris did eat them." + +"Toadstools!" cried Constance with a gasp. "Toadstools, Love! Did they +look like little tables? And did Damaris call them mushrooms?" + +"Yes, like little tables," Love nodded his head hard. "All full +underneath with soft crimped----" + +But Constance waited for no more. With a cry she was on her feet and +running like the wind, calling back over her shoulder to Giles: + +"I'll come quick! I know! I know! Tell Father I know!" + +"She hath gone to Doctor Fuller's house," said Priscilla, watching +Constance's flying figure, her hair unbound and streaming like a +burnished banner behind her as she ran to get her weapon to fight with +Death. "No girl ever ran as she can. Come, Giles; obey her. Tell your +father and Mistress Hopkins that mayhap Constance can save the child." + +They turned toward the house, and Constance sped on. + +"Nightshade! The belladonna!" she was saying to herself as she ran. "I +know the phial; I know its place. O, God, give me time, and give me wit, +and do Thou the rest!" Past power to explain, she swept aside with a +vehement arm the woman who found needed shelter for herself in Doctor +Fuller's house, and kept it for him till his wife should come to +Plymouth. + +Into the crude laboratory and pharmacy--in which the doctor had allowed +her to work with him, of the contents of which he had taught her so much +for an emergency that she had little dreamed would so closely affect +herself when it came--Constance flew, and turned to the shelf where +stood, in their dark phials, the few poisons which the doctor kept ready +to do beneficent work for him. + +"Belladonna, belladonna, the beautiful lady," Constance murmured, in the +curious way that minds have of seizing words and dwelling on them with +surface insistence, while the actual mind is intensely working on a +vital matter. + +She took down the wrong phial first, and set it back impatiently. + +"There should be none other like belladonna," she said aloud, and took +down the phial she sought. To be sure that she was right, though it was +labelled in the doctor's almost illegible small writing, she withdrew +the cork. She knew the sickening odour of the nightshade which she had +helped distil, an odour that dimly recalled a tobacco that had come to +her father in England in her childhood from some Spanish colony, as she +had been told, and also a wine that her stepmother made from wild +berries. + +Constance shuddered as she replaced the cork. + +"It sickens me, but if only it will restore little Damaris!" she +thought. + +Holding the phial tight Constance hastened away, and, her breath still +coming painfully, she broke into her swift race homeward, diminishing +nothing of her speed in coming, her great purpose conquering the pain +that oppressed her labouring breast. + +When she reached her home her father was watching for her in the +doorway. He took her hands in both of his without a word, covering the +phial which she clasped, and looking at her questioningly. + +"I hope so; oh, I hope so, Father!" she said. "The doctor told me." + +Stephen Hopkins led her into the house; Dame Eliza met her within. + +"Constance? Connie?" Thus Mistress Hopkins implored her to do her best, +and to allow her to hope. + +"Yes, yes, Mother," Constance replied to the prayer, and neither noted +that they spoke to each other by names that they had never used before. + +The first glimpse that Constance had of Damaris on the bed sent all the +blood back against her heart with a pang that made her feel faint. It +did not seem possible that she was in time, even should her knowledge be +correct. + +The child lay rigid as Constance's eyes fell on her; her lips and cheeks +were ghastly, her long hair heightening the awful effect of her deathly +colour. Frequent convulsions shook her body, her struggling breathing +alone broke the stillness of the room. + +"She is quieter, but it is not that she is better," whispered Dame +Eliza. + +Priscilla Alden stood ready with a spoon and glass in one hand, water in +a small ewer in the other, always the efficient, sensible girl when +needed. + +Constance accepted the glass, took from it the spoon, gave the glass +back to Priscilla and poured from the dark phial into the spoon the dose +of belladonna that Doctor Fuller had explained to her would be proper to +use in an extreme case of danger. + +"How wonderful that he should have told me particularly about toadstool +poisoning, yet it is because of the children," Constance's dual mind was +saying to her, even while she poured the remedy and prayed with all her +might for its efficacy. + +"Open her mouth," she said to her father, and he obeyed her. Constance +poured the belladonna down Damaris's throat. + +Even after the first dose the child's rigor relaxed before a long time +had passed. The dose was repeated; the early dusk of the grayest month +closed down upon the watchers in that room. The neighbours slipped away +to their own homes and duties; night fell, and Stephen Hopkins, his +wife, Giles, and Constance stood around that bed, feeling no want of +food, watching, watching the gradual cessation of the wracking +convulsions, the relaxation of the stiffened little limbs, the fall of +the strained eyelids, the quieter breathing, the changing tint of the +skin as the poison loosed its grip upon the poor little heart and the +blood began to course languidly, but duly, through the congested veins. + +"Constance, she is safe!" Stephen Hopkins ventured at last to say as +Damaris turned on her side with a long, refreshing breath. + +Giles went quickly from the room, and Constance turned to her father +with sudden weakness that made her faint. + +Constance swayed as she stood and her father caught her in his arms, +tenderly drawing her head down on his shoulder, as great rending sobs +shook her from relief and the accumulated exhaustion of hunger, physical +weariness, anxiety, and grief. + +"Brave little lass!" Stephen Hopkins whispered, kissing her again and +again. "Brave, quick-witted, loving, wise little lass o' mine!" + +Dame Eliza spoke never a word, but on her knees, with her head buried in +the bright patch bedspread, one of Damaris's cold little hands laid +across her lips, she wept as Constance had never dreamed that her +stepmother could weep. + +"Better look after her, Father," Constance whispered, alarmed. "She will +do herself a mischief, poor soul! Mother, oh--she loves me not! Father, +comfort her; I will rest, and then I shall be my old self." + +"You did not notice that Priscilla had come back," her father said. "She +is in the kitchen, and the kettle is singing on the hob. Go, dear one, +and Priscilla will give you food and warm drink. Let me help you there. +My Constance, Damaris would be far beyond our love by now had you not +saved her. You have saved her life, Constance! What do we not all owe to +you?" + +"It was Doctor Fuller. He taught me. He is wise, and knew that children +might take harm from toadstools, playing in the woods as ours do. It was +not due to me that Damaris was saved," Constance said. + +She was not conscious of how heavily she leaned on her father's arm, +which lovingly enfolded her, leading her to the big chair in the +inglenook. The fire leaped and crackled; the steam from the singing +kettle on the crane showed rosy red in the firelight; Hecate, Puck, and +Lady Fair basked in the warmth, and Priscilla Alden knelt on the hearth +stirring something savoury in the saucepan that sat among the raked-off +ashes, while John Alden, who had brought Priscilla back to be useful to +the worn-out household, sat on the settle, leaning forward, elbows on +knees, the bellows between his hands, ready to pump up wind under a +flame that might show a sign of flagging. + +"Dear me, how cosy it looks!" exclaimed Constance, involuntarily, her +drooping muscles tautening to welcome the brightness waiting for her. +"It does not seem as though there ever could come a sorrow to threaten a +hearthstone so shut in, so well tended as this one!" + +"It did not come, my dear; it only looked in at the window, and when it +saw the tended hearth, and how well-armed you were to grapple with it, +off it went!" cried Priscilla, drawing Constance into the high-backed +chair. "Feet on this stool, my pretty, and this napery over your knees! +That's right! Now this bowl and spoon, and then your Pris will pour her +hot posset into your bowl, and you must shift it into your sweet mouth, +and we'll be as right as a trivet, instanter!" + +Priscilla acted as she chattered, and Constance gladly submitted to +being taken care of, lying back smiling in weary, happy acquiescence. + +Priscilla's posset was a heartening thing, and Constance after it, +munched blissfully on a biscuit and sipped the wine that had been made +of elder too brief a time before, yet which was friendly to her, +nevertheless. + +Constance's lids drooped in the warmth, her head nodded, her fingers +relaxed. Priscilla caught her glass just in time as it was falling, and +Constance slept beside the fire while John and Priscilla crept away, and +Giles came to take their place, to keep up the blaze in case a kettle of +hot water might be needed when Damaris wakened from her first restoring +sleep. + +At dawn Doctor Fuller came in and Constance aroused to welcome him. + +"Child, what an experience you have borne!" the good man said, bending +with a moved face to greet Constance. "To think that I should have been +absent! Your practice was more successful than mine; the squaw is dead. +And you remembered my teaching, and saved the child with the nightshade +we gathered and distilled that fair day, more than two months ago! 'Twas +a lesson well conned!" + +"'Twas a lesson well taught," Constance amended. "Sit here, Doctor +Fuller, and let me call my father. You will see Damaris? And her mother +is in need of a quieting draught, I think. The poor soul was utterly +spent when last I saw her, though I've selfishly slept, nor known aught +of what any one else might be bearing." + +Constance slipped softly through the door as she spoke, into the bedroom +where Damaris lay. The little girl was sleeping, but her mother lay +across her feet, her gloomy eyes staring at the wall, her face white and +mournful. + +"Doctor Fuller is come, Stepmother," whispered Constance. "Shall he not +see Damaris? And you, have you not slept?" + +"Not a wink," said Dame Eliza, rising heavily. "To me it is as if +Damaris had died, and that that child there was another. I bore the +agony of parting from her, and now must abide by it, meseems, for I +cannot believe that she is here and safe. Constance, it is to you----." +She stopped and began again. "I was ever fond of calling you your +father's daughter, making plain that I had no part in you. It was true; +none have I, nor ever can have. But in my child you have the right of +sister, and the restorer of her life. Damaris's mother, and Damaris is +your father's other daughter, is heavily in your debt. I do not +know----." She paused. She had spoken slowly, with difficulty, as if she +could not find the words, nor use them as she wished to when she had +found them. Young as she was, Constance saw that her stepmother was +labouring under the stress of profound emotion, that tore her almost +like a physical agony. + +"Now, now, prithee, Mistress Hopkins!" cried Constance, purposely using +her customary title for her stepmother, to avoid the effect of there +being anything out of the ordinary between them. "Bethink thee that I +have loved Damaris dearly all her short life, and that her loss would +have wounded me hardly less than it would have you. What debt can there +be where there is love? Would I not have sacrificed anything to keep the +child, even for myself? And what have I done but remember what the +doctor taught me, and give her drops? Do not, I pray thee, make of my +selfishness and natural affection a matter of merit! And now the doctor +is waiting. Will you not go to him and let him treat you, too?--for +indeed you need it. And he will tell you how best to bring Damaris back +to her strength. I am going out into the morning air, for my long sleep +by the hot fire hath made me heavy. I will be back in a short time to +help with breakfast, Stepmother!" + +Constance snatched her cloak and ran out by the other door to escape +seeing the doctor again and hearing her stepmother dilate to him upon +the night's events. + +The sun was rising, resplendent, but the air was cold. + +"And no wonder!" Constance thought, startled by her discovery. "Winter +is upon us; to-day is December! Our warmth must leave us, and then will +danger of poisoning be past, even in sheltered spots, such as that in +which our little lass near found her death!" + +She spread her arms out to the sun rays, and let the crisp, sea wind +cool her face. + +"What a world! What a world! How fair, how glad, how sweet! Oh, thank +God that it is so to us all this morning! Never will I repine at +hardships in kind Plymouth colony, nor at the cost of coming on this +pilgrimage, for of all the world in Merry England there is none to-day +happier or more grateful than is this pilgrim maid!" + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +Christmas Wins, Though Outlawed + + +Little Damaris, who had so nearly made the last great pilgrimage upon +which we must all go, having turned her face once more toward the world +she had been quitting, resumed her place in it but languidly. Never a +robust child, her slender strength was impaired by the poison which she +had absorbed. Added to this was the sudden coming of winter upon +Plymouth, not well prepared to resist it, and it set in with violence, +as if to atone for dallying on its way, for allowing summer to overlap +its domain. Without a word to each other both Dame Eliza and Constance +entered into an alliance of self-denial, doing without part of the more +nourishing food out of their scanty allowance to give it to Damaris, and +to plot in other ways to bring her back to health. + +Constance scarcely knew her stepmother. Silent, where she had been prone +to talk; patient, where she had been easily vexed; with something almost +deprecatory in her manner where she always had been self-assertive, Dame +Eliza went about her round of work like a person whom her husband's +daughter had never known. + +Toward Constance most of all was she changed. Never by the most remote +implication did she blame her, whereas heretofore everything that the +girl did was wrong, and the subject of wearisome, scolding comment. She +avoided unnecessary speech to Constance, seemed even to try not to look +at her, but this without the effect of her old-time dislike; it was +rather as if she felt humiliated before her, and could not bring herself +to meet the girl's eyes. + +Constance, as she realized this, began to make little overtures toward +her stepmother. Her sweetness of nature made her suffer discomfort when +another was ill-at-ease, but so far her cautious attempts had met with +failure. + +"We have been in Plymouth a year, lacking but a sen' Night, Stepmother," +Constance said one December day when the snow lay white on Plymouth and +still thickened the air and veiled the sky. "And we have been in the New +World past a year." + +"It is ordered that we remember it in special prayer and psalmody to the +Lord, with thanksgiving on the anniversary of our landing; you heard +that, Constantia?" her stepmother responded. + +"No, but that would be seemly, a natural course to follow," said +Constance. + +"There is not one of us who is not reliving the voyage hither and the +hard winter of a year ago, I'll warrant. And Christmas is nearing." + +"That is a word that may not be uttered here," said Dame Eliza with a +gleam of humour in her eyes, though she did not lift them, and a +flitting smile across her somewhat grimly set lips. + +"Oh, can it be harmful to keep the day on which, veiled in an infant's +form, man first saw his redemption?" cried Constance. "There were +sweetness and holiness in Christmas-keeping, meseems. If only we could +cut out less violently! Stepmother, will you let me have my way?" + +"Your way is not in my guidance, Constantia," said Dame Eliza. "It is +for your father to grant you, or refuse you; not me." + +"This is beyond my father's province," laughed Constance. "Will you let +me make a doll--I have my box of paints, and you know that a gift for +using paints and for painting human faces is mine. I will make a doll of +white rags and dress her in our prettiest coloured ones, with fastenings +upon her clothes, so that they may be taken off and changed, else would +she be a trial to her little mother! And then I will paint her face with +my best skill, big blue eyes, curling golden hair, rose-red cheeks and +lips, and a fine, straight little nose. Oh, she shall be a lovely +creature, upon my honour! And will you let me give her to Damaris on +Christmas morning, saying naught of it to any one outside this house, so +no one shall rebuke us, or fine my father again for letting his child +have a Christmas baby, as they fined him for letting Ted and Ned play at +a harmless game? Then I shall know that there is one happy child on the +birthday of Him who was born that all children, of all ages, should be +happy, and that it will be, of all the possible little ones, our dear +little lass who is thus full of joy!" + +Mistress Hopkins did not reply for a moment. Then she raised the corner +of her apron and wiped her eyes, muttering something about "strong +mustard." + +"How fond you are of my little Damaris," she then said. "You know, +Constantia, that I have no right to consent to your keeping Christmas, +since our elders have set their faces dead against all practices of the +Old Church. Yet are your reasons for wishing to do this, or so it seems +to me in my ignorance, such as Heaven would approve, and it sorely is +borne upon me that many worser sins may be wrought in Plymouth than +making a delicate child happy on the birthday of the Lord. Go, then, and +make your puppet, but do not tell any one that you first consulted me. +If trouble comes of it they will blame you less, who are young and not +so long removed from the age of dolls, than me, who am one of the +Mothers in Israel." + +"Oh, thank you, thank you, Stepmother!" cried Constance jumping up and +clapping her hands with greater delight than if she had herself received +a Christmas gift. + +"I'll never betray you, never! None shall know that any but my wicked, +light-minded self had a hand in this profanation of----. What does it +profane, Stepmother?" + +"Plymouth and Plymouth pilgrimage," said Dame Eliza, and this time the +smile that she had checked before had its way. + +Constance ran upstairs to look for the pieces which were to be +transformed by fairy magic, through her means, from shapeless rags to a +fair and rosy daughter for pale Damaris. She remembered, wondering, as +she knelt before her chest, that she had clapped her hands and pranced, +and that Dame Eliza had not reproved her. + +Constance was busy with her doll till Christmas morning, the more so +that she must hide it from Damaris and there was not warmth anywhere to +sit and sew except in the great living room where Damaris amused Oceanus +most of the darksome days. But Damaris's mother connived with Constance +to divert the child, and there were long evenings, for, to give +Constance more time, Dame Eliza put Damaris early to bed, and Constance +sat late at her sewing. + +Thus when Christmas day came there sat on the hearth, propped up against +the back of Stephen Hopkins's big volume of Shakespeare, a doll with a +painted face that had real claim to prettiness. She wore a gown of +sprigged muslin that hung so full around the pointed stomacher of her +waist that it was a scandal to sober Plymouth, and a dangerous example +to Damaris, had she been inclined to vain light-mindedness. And--though +this was a surprise also to Dame Eliza--there was a horse of brown +woollen stuff, with a tail of fine-cut rags and a mane of ravelled rags, +and legs which, though considerably curved as to shape and unreliable as +to action, were undeniably legs, and four in number. There were bright, +black buttons on the steed's head suggestive of eyes, and the red paint +in two spots below them were all the fiery nostrils the animal required. +This was Giles's contribution to the joy of his ailing baby brother. +Oceanus was a frail child whose grasp on life had been taken at a time +too severe for him to hold it long, nor indeed did he. + +"Come out and wander down the street, Con," Giles whispered to Constance +under the cover of the shouts of the two children who had come +downstairs to find the marvellous treasures, the doll and horse, +awaiting them, and who went half mad with joy, just like modern children +in old Plymouth, as if they had not been little pilgrims. + +"There will be amusement for thee; come out, but never say I bade you +come. You can make an errand." + +"Oh, Giles, you are not plotting mischief?" Constance implored, seeing +the fun in her brother's eyes and fearing an attempt at Christmas +fooling. + +"No harm afoot, but we hope a little laughter," said Giles, nodding +mysteriously as he left the house. + +Constance could not resist her curiosity. She wrapped herself in her +cloak against the cold and tied a scarf over her hair, before drawing +its hood over her head. + +"You look like a witch, like a sweet, lovely witch," cried Damaris, +getting up from her knees on which she had seemed, and not unjustly, to +be worshipping her doll, whom she had at once christened Connie, and +running over to hug her sister, breathless. "Are you a witch, Constance, +and made my Connie by magic? No, a fairy! A fairy you are! My fairy, +darling, lovely sister!" + +"Be grateful to Constantia, as you should be, Damaris, but prate not of +fairies. I will not let go undone all my duty as a Puritan and pilgrim +mother. Constantia is a kind sister to you, which is better, than a +fairy falsehood," said Dame Eliza, rallying something of her old spirit. + +Constance kissed Damaris and whispered something to her so softly that +all the child caught was "Merry." Yet the lost word was not hard to +guess. + +Then Constance went out and down the street, wondering what Giles had +meant. She saw a small group of men before her, near the general +storehouse for supplies, and easily made out that they were the younger +men of the plantation, including those that had come on the _Fortune_, +and that Giles and Francis Billington were to the fore. + +Up the street in his decorous raiment, but without additional marking of +the day by his better cloak as on Sunday, came Governor Bradford with +his unhastening pace not quickened, walking with his English thorn stick +that seemed to give him extra, gubernatorial dignity, toward the group. +The younger lads nudged one another, laughing, half afraid, but not +Giles. He stood awaiting the governor as if he faced him for a serious +cause, yet Constance saw that his eyes danced. + +"Good morning, my friends," said William Bradford. "Not at work? You are +apportioned to the building of the stockade. It is late to begin your +day, especially that the sun sets early at this season." + +"It is because of the season, though not of the sun's setting, that we +are not at work," said Giles, chosen spokesman for this prank by his +fellows, and now getting many nudges lest he neglect his office. "Hast +forgotten, Mr. Bradford, what day this is? It offends our conscience to +work on a day of such high reverence. This be a holy day, and we may not +work without sin, as the inward voice tells us. We waited to explain to +you what looked like idleness, but is rather prompted by high and lofty +principles." + +The governor raised his eyebrows and bowed deeply, not without a slight +twitching of his lips, as he heard this unexpected and solemn protest. + +"Indeed, Giles Hopkins! And is it so? You have in common with these, +your fellow labourers, a case of scruples to which the balm of the +opinions of your elders and betters, at least in experience and +authority, does not apply? Far be it from me to interfere with your +consciences! We have come to the New World, and braved no slight +adversity for just this cause, that conscience unbridled, undriven, +might guide us in virtue. Disperse, therefore, to your homes, and for +the day let the work of protection wait. I bid you good morning, +gentlemen, and pray you be always such faithful harkeners to the voice +of conscience." + +The governor went on, having spoken, and the actors in the farce looked +crestfallen at one another, the point of the jest somewhat blunted by +the governor's complete approval. Indeed there were some among them who +followed the governor. He turned back, hoping for this, and said: + +"This is not done to approve of Christmas-keeping but rather to spare +you till you are better informed." + +"What will you do, Giles?" asked Constance, as her brother joined her, +Francis also, not in the least one with those who relinquished the idea +of a holiday. + +"Do? Why follow our consciences, as we were commended for doing!" +shouted Francis tossing his hat in the air and catching it neatly on his +head in the approved fashion of a mountebank at a fair in England. + +"Our consciences bid us play at games on Christmas," supplemented Giles. +"Would you call the girls and watch us? Or we'll play some games that +you can join in, such as catch-catch, or pussy-wants-a-corner." + +Constance shook her head. "Giles, be prudent," she warned. "You have +won your first point, but if I know the governor's face there was +something in it that betokened more to come. You know there'll be no +putting up with games on any day here, least of all on this day, which +would be taken as a return to abandoned ways. Yet it is comical!" +Constance added, finding her rôle of mentor irksome when all her youth +cried out for fun. + +"Good Con! You are no more ready for unbroken dulness than we are!" +Francis approved her. "Come along, Giles; get the bar for throwing, and +the ball, and who said pitch-and-toss? I have a set of rings I made, I +and--someone else." Francis's face clouded. Pranks had lost much of +their flavour since he lacked Jack. + +Seeing this, Giles raced Francis off, and the other conscientious youths +who refused work, streamed after them. + +Constance continued her way to the Alden home. She thought that a timely +visit to Priscilla would bring her home at such an hour as to let her +see the end of the morning escapade. + +Elizabeth Tilley drifted into Priscilla's kitchen in an aimless way, not +like her usual busy self, although she made the reason for her coming a +recipe which she needed. Soon Desire Minter followed her, asking +Priscilla if she would show her how to cut an apron from a worn-out +skirt, but, like Elizabeth, Desire seemed listless and uncertain. + +"There's something wrong!" cried Desire at last, without connection. +"There is a sense of there being Christmas in the world somewhere +to-day, and not here! I am glad that I go back to England as soon as +opportunity offers." + +"There is Christmas here, most conscientiously kept!" laughed Constance. +"Hark to the tale of it!" And she told the girls what had happened that +morning. + +"Come with me, bear me company home, and we shall, most probably, see +the end of it, for I am sure that the governor is not done with those +lads," she added. + +Desire and Elizabeth welcomed the suggestion, for they were, also, about +to go home. + +"See yonder!" cried Constance, pointing. + +Down the street there was what, in Plymouth, constituted a crowd, +gathered into two bands. With great shouting and noise one band was +throwing a ball, which the other band did its utmost to prevent from +entering a goal toward which the throwers directed it. Alone, one young +man was throwing a heavy bar, taking pride in his muscles which balanced +the bar and threw it a long distance with ease and grace. + +"To think that this is Plymouth, with merrymaking in its street on +Christmas day!" exclaimed Desire, her eyes kindling with pleasure. + +"Ah, but see the governor is coming, leading back those men who went to +work; he has himself helped to build the stockade. Now we shall see how +he receives this queer idea of a holiday, which is foreign to us, though +it comes from England," said Constance. + +Governor Bradford came toward the shouting and mirth-making with his +dignified gait unvaried. The game slackened as he drew nearer, though +some of the players did their best to keep it up at the same pace, not +to seem to dread the governor's disapproval. + +Having gained the centre of the players, the governor halted, and looked +from one to another. + +"Hand me that ball, and yonder bar, and all other implements of play +which you have here," he said, sternly. "My friends," he added to the +men who had been at work, "take from our idlers their toys." + +There was no resistance on the part of the players; they yielded up +bats, ball, and bar, the stool-ball, goal sticks, and all else, without +demur, curious to see what was in the wind. + +"Now, young men of Plymouth colony," said Governor Bradford, "this +morning you told me that your consciences forbade you to work on +Christmas day. Although I could not understand properly trained Puritan +consciences going so astray, yet did I admit your plea, not being +willing to force you to do that which there was a slender chance of your +being honest in objecting to, for conscience sake. You have not worked +with your neighbours for half of this day. Now doth my conscience +arouse, nor will it allow me, as governor, to see so many lusty men at +play, while others labour for our mutual benefit. Therefore I forbid the +slightest attempt at game-playing on this day. If your consciences will +not allow you to labour then will mine, though exempting you from work +because of your sense of right, yet not allow you to play while others +work. For the rest of this day, which is called Christmas, but which we +consider but as the twenty-fifth day of this last month of the year, you +will either go to work, or you will remain close within your various +houses, on no account to appear beyond your thresholds. For either this +is a work-a-day afternoon, or else is it holy, which we by no means +admit. In either case play is forbidden you. See to it that you obey me, +or I will deal with you as I am empowered to deal." + +The young men looked at one another, some inclined to resent this, +others with a ready sense of humour, burst out laughing; among these +latter was Giles, who cried: + +"Fairly caught, Governor Bradford! You have played a Christmas game this +day yourself and have won out at it! For me, as a choice between staying +close within the house and working, I will take to the stockade. By your +leave, then, Governor, I will join you at the work, dinner being over." + +"You have my leave, Giles Hopkins," said William Bradford, and there was +a twinkle in his eyes as he turned them, with no smile on his lips, upon +Giles. + +Giles went home with Constance in perfect good humour, taking the end of +his mischief in good part. + +"For look you," he said, summing up comments upon it to his sister. "I +don't mind encountering defeat by clever outwitting of me. We tried a +scheme and the governor had a better one. What I mind is unfairness; +that was fair, and I like the governor better than I ever did before." + +Stephen Hopkins stood in the doorway of the house as the brother and +sister came toward it. He was gazing at the skyline with eyes that saw +nothing near to him, preoccupied, wistful, in a mood that was rare to +him, and never betrayed to others. His eyes came back to earth slowly, +and he looked at Giles and Constance as one looks who has difficulty in +seeing realities, so occupied was he with his thoughts. He put out a +hand and took one of Constance's hands, drawing it up close to his +breast, and he laid his left hand heavily on Giles's shoulder. + +"Across that ocean it is Christmas day," he said, slowly. "In England +people are sitting around their hearths mulling ale, roasting apples, +singing old songs and carols. When I was young your mother and I rode +miles across a dim forest, she on her pillion, I guiding a mettlesome +beauty. But she had no fear with my hand on his bridle; we had been +married but since Michaelmas. We went to visit your grandmother, her +mother, Lady Constantia, who was a famous toast in her youth. You are +very like your mother, Constance; I have often told you this. Strange, +that one can inhabit the same body in such different places in a +lifetime; stranger that, still in the same body, he can be such an +altered man! Giles, my son, I have been thinking long thoughts to-day. +There is something that I must say to you as your due; nay something, +rather, that I want to say to you. I have been wrong, my son. I have +loved you so well that a defect in you annoyed me, and I have been hard, +impatient, offending against the charity in judgment that we owe all +men, surely most those who are our nearest and dearest. I accused you +unjustly, and gave you no opportunity to explain. Giles, as man to man, +and as a father who failed you, I beg your pardon." + +"Oh, sir! Oh, dear, dear Father!" cried Giles in distress. "It needed +not this! All I ask is your confidence. I have been an arrogant young +upstart, denying you your right to deal with me. It is I who am wrong, +wrongest in that I have never confessed the wrong, and asked your +forgiveness. Surely it is for me to beg your pardon; not you mine!" + +"At least a good example is your due from me," said Stephen Hopkins, +with a smile of wistful tenderness. "We are all upstarts, Giles lad, +denying that we should receive correction, and this from a Greater than +I. The least that we can do is to be willing to acknowledge our errors. +With all my heart I forgive you, lad, and I ask you to try to love me, +and let there be the perfect loving comradeship between us that, it hath +seemed, we had left behind us on the other shore, just when it was most +needed to sustain us in our venture on this one. You loved me well, +Giles, as a child; love me as well as you can as a man." + +Giles caught his father's hand in both of his, and was not ashamed that +tears were streaming down his cheeks. + +"Father, I never loved you till to-day!" he cried. "You have taught me +true greatness, and--and--Oh, indeed I love and honour you, dear sir!" + +"The day of good will, and of peace to it! And of love that triumphs +over wrongs," said Stephen Hopkins, turning toward the house, and +whimsically touching with his finger-tips the happy tears that quivered +on Constance's lashes. + +"We cannot keep it out of Plymouth colony, however we strive to erect +barriers against the feast; Christmas wins, though outlawed!" + + "God rest ye merry, gentlemen; + Let nothing you dismay," + +Constance carolled as she hung up her cloak, her heart leaping in +rapture of gratitude. Nor did Dame Eliza reprove her carol, but half +smiled as Oceanus crowed and beat a pan wildly with his Christmas horse. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +A Fault Confessed, Thereby Redressed + + +As the winter wore away, that second winter in Plymouth colony that +proved so hard to endure, the new state of things in the Hopkins +household continued. Constance could not understand her stepmother. +Though the long habit of a lifetime could not be at once entirely +abandoned, yet Dame Eliza scolded far less, and toward Constance herself +maintained an attitude that was far from fault-finding. Indeed she +managed to combine something like regretful deference that was not +unlike liking, with a rigid keeping of her distance from the girl. +Constance wondered what had come over Mistress Hopkins, but she was too +thankful for the peace she enjoyed to disturb it by the least attempt to +bridge the distance that Dame Eliza had established between them. + +Her father and Giles were a daily delight to Constance. The comradeship +that they had been so happy in when Giles was a child was theirs again, +increased and deepened by the understanding that years had enabled Giles +and his father to share as one man with another. And added to that was +wistful affection, as if the older man and the younger one longed to +make up by strength of love for the wasted days when all had not been +right between them. + +Constance watched them together with gladness shining upon her face. +Dame Eliza also watched them, but with an expression that Constance +could not construe. Certain it was that her stepmother was not happy, +not sure of herself, as she had always been. + +Oceanus was not well; he did not grow strong and rosy as did the other +_Mayflower_ baby, Peregrine White, though Oceanus was by this time +walking and talking--a tall, thin, reed-like little baby, fashioned not +unlike the long grasses that grew on Plymouth harbour shore. But Damaris +had come back to health. She was Constance's charge; her mother yielded +her to Constance and devoted herself to the baby, as if she had a +presentiment of how brief a time she was to keep him. + +It was a cruelly hard winter; except that there was not a second +epidemic of mortal disease it was harder to the exiles than the first +winter in Plymouth. + +Hunger was upon them, not for a day, a week, or a month, but hourly and +on all the days that rose and set upon the lonely little village, +encompassed by nothing kinder than reaches of marsh, sand, and barrens +that ended in forest; the monotonous sea that moaned against their coast +and separated them from food and kin; and the winter sky that often +smiled on them sunnily, it is true, but oftener was coldly gray, or +hurling upon them bleak winds and driving snows. + +From England had come on the _Fortune_ more settlers to feed, but no +food for them. Plymouth people were hungry, but they faithfully divided +their scarcity with the new-comers and hoped that in the spring Mr. +Weston, the agent in England who had promised them the greatest help and +assured them of the liveliest interest in this heroic venture, would +send them at least a fraction of the much he had pledged to its +assistance. + +So when the spring, that second spring, came in and brought a small ship +there was the greatest excitement of hope in her coming. But all she +brought was letters, and seven more passengers to consume the food +already so shortened, but not an ounce of addition to the supplies. One +letter was from Mr. Weston, filled with fair words, but so discouraging +in its smooth avoidance of actual help that Governor Bradford dared not +make its contents known, lest it should discourage the people, already +sufficiently downhearted, and with more than enough reason to be so. +There was a letter on this ship for Constance from Humility, and +Governor Bradford beckoned to John Howland, standing near and said to +him: + +"Take this letter up to Mistress Constantia Hopkins, and ask her father +to come to me, if it please him. Say to him that I wish to consult him." + +"I will willingly do your bidding, Mr. Bradford," said John Howland, +accepting the letter which the governor held out to him and turning it +to see in all lights its yellowed folder and the seal thrice impressed +along its edge to insure that none other than she whose name appeared +written in a fine, running hand on the obverse side, should first read +the letter. "In fact I have long contemplated a visit to Mistress +Constantia. It hath seemed to me that Stephen Hopkins's daughter was +growing a woman and a comely woman. She is not so grave as I would want +her to be, but allowance must be made for her youth, and her father is +not so completely, nor profoundly set free from worldliness as are our +truer saints; witness the affair of the shovelboard. But Constantia +Hopkins, under the control and obedience of a righteous man, may be +worthy of his hand." + +"Say you so!" exclaimed William Bradford, half amused, half annoyed, and +wondering what his quick-tempered but honoured friend Stephen would say +to this from John Howland--he who had a justifiable pride in his +honourable descent and who held no mere man equal to his Constance, the +apple of his eye. "I had not a suspicion that you were turning over in +your mind thoughts of this nature. I would advise you to consult Mr. +Hopkins before you let them take too strong hold upon your desire. But +in as far as my errand runneth with your purpose to further your +acquaintance with the maiden, in so far I will help you, good John, for +I am anxious that Mr. Hopkins shall know as soon as possible what news +the ship hath brought. Stay; here is another letter; for Mistress Eliza +Hopkins this time. Take that, also, if you will and bid Mr. Hopkins +hither." + +John Howland, missing entirely the hint of warning in the governor's +voice and manner, took the two letters and went his way. + +He found Stephen Hopkins at his house, planning the planting of a garden +with his son. + +"I will go at once; come thou with me, Giles. It sounds like ill news, I +fear me, that hint of wishing to consult me. Somehow it seems that as +'good wine needs no bush,' for which we have Shakespeare's authority, so +good news needs little advice, or rarely seeks it, for its dealing." + +So saying Stephen Hopkins, straightening himself with a hand on his +stiffened side went into the house, and, taking his hat, went +immediately out of it again, with Giles. John Howland followed them into +the house, but not out of it. Instead, he seated himself, unbidden, upon +the fireside settle, and awaited their departure. + +Then he produced his two letters, and offered one to Constance. + +"I have brought you this, Mistress Constantia," he said, ponderously, +"at the request of the governor, but no less have I brought it because +it pleaseth me to do you a service, as I hope to do you many, even to +the greatest, in time to come." + +"Thank you, John," said innocent Constance, having no idea of the +weighty meaning underlying this statement, indeed scarce hearing it, +being eager to get the letter which he held. "Oh, from Humility! It is +from Humility! Look, little Damaris, a letter from England, writ by +Humility Cooper! The _Fortune_ is safely in port, then! Come, my cosset, +and I will read you what Humility hath to tell us of her voyage, of +home, and all else! First of all shall you and I hear this: then we will +hasten to Priscilla Alden and read it to her new little daughter, for +she hath been so short a time in Plymouth that she must long for news +from across the sea, do you not say so?" + +Damaris giggled in enjoyment of Constance's nonsense, which the serious +little thing never failed to enter into and to enjoy, as unplayful +people always enjoy those who can frolic. The big sister ran away, with +the smaller one clinging to her skirt, and with never a backward glance +nor thought for John Howland, meditating a great opportunity for +Constance, as he sat on the fireside settle. + +"Mistress Hopkins, this is your letter," said John, completing his +errand when Constance was out of sight. + +He offered Dame Eliza her letter. She looked at it and thrust it into +her pocket with such a heightened colour and distressed look that even +John Howland's preoccupation took note of it. + +"This present hour seems to be an opportunity that is a leading, and I +will follow this leading, Mistress Hopkins, by your leave," John said. +"It cannot be by chance that all obstacles to plain speaking to you are +removed. I had thought first to speak to Stephen Hopkins, or perhaps to +Constantia herself, but I see that it is better to engage a woman's good +offices." + +Dame Eliza frowned at him, darkly; she was in no mood for dallying, and +this preamble had a sound that she did not like. + +"Good offices for what? My good offices? Why?" she snapped. "Why should +you speak to Mr. Hopkins, with whose Christian name better men than you +in this colony make less free? And still more I would know why you +should speak either first or last to Mistress Constantia? That hath a +sound that I do not like, John Howland!" + +John Howland stared at her, aghast, a moment, then he said: + +"It is my intent, Mistress Eliza Hopkins, to offer to wed Mistress +Constantia, and that cannot mislike you. Young though she be, and +somewhat frivolous, yet do I hope much for her from marriage with a +godly man, and I find her comely to look upon. Therefore----" + +"Therefore!" cried Dame Eliza who seemed to have lost her breath for a +moment in sheer angry amazement. "Therefore you would make a fool of +yourself, had not it been done for you at your birth! Art completely a +numbskull, John Howland, that you speak as though it was a favour, and +a matter for you to weigh heavily before coming to it, that you might +make Stephen Hopkins's daughter your wife? Put the uneasiness that it +gives you as to her light-mindedness out of your thoughts, nor dwell +over-much upon her comeliness, for your own good! Comely is she, and a +rare beauty, to give her partly her due. And what is more, is she a +sweet and noble lass, graced with wit and goodness that far exceed your +knowledge; not even her father can know as I do, with half my sore +reason, her patience, her charity, her unfailing generosity to give, or +to forgive. Marry Constance, forsooth! Why, man, there is not a man in +this Plymouth settlement worthy of her latchets, nor in all England is +there one too good for her, if half good enough! Your eyes will be awry +and for ever weak from looking so high for your mate. But that you are +the veriest ninny afoot I would deal with you, John Howland, for your +impudence! Learn your place, man, and never let your conceit so run away +with you that you dare to speak as if you were hesitant as to Mr. +Hopkins's daughter to be your wife! Zounds! John, get out of my sight +lest I be tempted to take my broom and clout ye! Constance Hopkins and +you, forsooth! Oh, be gone, I tell ye! She's the pick and flower of +maidens, in Plymouth or England, or where you will!" + +John Howland rose, slowly, stiffly, angry, but also ashamed, for he had +not spirit, and he felt that he had stepped beyond bounds in aspiring +to Constance since Dame Eliza with such vehemence set it before him. +Then, too, it were a strong man who could emerge unscathed from an +inundation of Dame Eliza's wrath. + +"I meant no harm, Mistress," he said, awkwardly. "No harm is done, for +the maid herself knows naught of it, nor any one save the governor, and +he but a hint. Let be no ill will between us for this. I suppose, since +Mistress Constantia is not for me, I must e'en marry whom I can, and I +think I must marry Elizabeth Tilley." + +"What does it matter to me who you marry?" said Dame Eliza, turning away +with sudden weariness. "It's no concern of mine, beyond the point I've +settled for good and all." + +John Howland went away. After he had gone Constance came around the +house and entered by the rear door. Her eyes were full of moisture from +suppressed laughter, yet her lips were tremulous and her eyes, dewy +though they were, shone with happiness. + +"Hast heard?" demanded Dame Eliza. + +"I could not help it," said Constance. "I left Damaris at Priscilla's +and ran back to ask you, for Priscilla, to lend her the pattern of the +long wrapping cloak that you made for our baby when he was tiny. Pris's +baby seems cold, she thinks. And as I entered I heard John. I near died +of laughing! I had thought a lover always felt his beloved to be so +fair and fine that he scarce dared look at her! Not so John! But after +all, it is less that I am John's beloved than his careful--and doubtful +choice. But for the rest, Mistress Hopkins--Stepmother--might I call you +Mother?--what shall I say? I am ashamed, grateful but ashamed, that you +praise me so! Yet how glad I am, never can I find words to tell you. I +thought that you hated me, and it hath grieved me, for love is the air I +breathe, and without it I shrivel up from chill and suffocation! I would +that I could thank you, tell you----." Constance stopped. + +The expression on Dame Eliza's face, wholly beyond her understanding, +silenced her. + +"You have thanked me," Dame Eliza said. "Damaris is alive only through +you. However you love her, yet her life is her mother's debt to you. +Much, much more do I owe you, Constantia Hopkins, and none knows it +better than myself. Let be. Words are poor. There is something yet to be +done. After it you may thank me, or deny me as you will, but between us +there will be a new beginning, its shaping shall be as you will. Till +that is done which I must do, let there be no more talk between us." + +Puzzled, but impressed by her stepmother's manner and manifest distress, +Constance acquiesced. It was not many days before she understood. + +The people of Plymouth were summoned to a meeting at Elder William +Brewster's house. It was generally understood that something of the +nature of a court of justice, and at the same time of a religious +character was to take place. Everyone came, drawn by curiosity and the +dearth of interesting public events. + +Stephen Hopkins, Giles, and Constance came, the two little children with +them, because there was no one at home to look after them. Not the least +suspicion of what they were to hear entered the mind of these three, or +it might never have been heard. + +Elder Brewster, William Bradford, Edward Winslow sat in utmost gravity +at the end of the room. It crossed Stephen Hopkins's mind to wonder a +little at his exclusion from this tribunal, for it had the effect of a +tribunal, but it was only a passing thought, and instantly it was +answered. + +Dame Eliza Hopkins entered the room, with Mistress Brewster, and seated +herself before the three heads of the colony. + +"My brethren," said William Brewster, rising, "it hath been said on +Authority which one may not dispute that a broken and contrite heart +will not be despised. You have been called together this night for what +purpose none but my colleagues and myself knew. It is to harken to the +public acknowledgment of a grave fault, and by your hearing of a public +confession to lend your part to the wiping out of this sin, which is +surely forgiven, being repented of, yet which is thus atoned for. We +have vainly endeavoured to persuade the person thus coming before you +that this course was not necessary; since her fault affected no one but +her family, to them alone need confession be made. As she insisted upon +this course, needs must we consent to it. Dame Eliza Hopkins, we are +ready to harken to you." + +He sat down, and Dame Eliza, rising, came forward. Stephen Hopkins's +face was a study, and Giles and Constance, crimson with distress, looked +appealingly at their father, but the situation was beyond his control. + +"Friends, neighbours, fellow pilgrims," began Dame Eliza, manifestly in +real agony of shamed distress, yet half enjoying herself, through her +love for drama and excitement, "I am a sinner. I cannot continue in your +membership unless you know the truth, and admit me thereto. My anger, my +wicked jealousy hath persecuted the innocent children of my husband, +they whose mother died and whose place I should have tried in some +measure to make good. But at all times, and in all ways have I used them +ill, not with blows upon the body, but upon their hearts. Jealousy was +my temptation, and I yielded to it. But, not content with sharp and +cruel words, I did plot against them to turn their father from them, +especially from his son, because I wanted for my son the inheritance in +England which Stephen Hopkins hath power to distribute. I succeeded in +sowing discord between the father and Giles, but not between my husband +and his daughter. At last I used a signature which fell into my hands, +and by forwarding it to England, set in train actions before the law +which would defraud Giles Hopkins and benefit my own son. By the ship +that lately came into our harbour I received a letter, sent to me by the +governor, by the hand of John Howland, promising me success in my wicked +endeavour. My brethren, my heart is sick unto death within me. +Thankfully I say that all estrangement is past between Giles Hopkins and +his father. In that my wicked success at the beginning was foiled. While +I was doing these things against the children, Constantia Hopkins, by +her sweetness, her goodness, her devotion, without a tinge of grudging, +to her little half-sister and brother, and at last her saving of my +child's life when no help but hers was near and the child was dying +before me, hath broken my hard heart; and in slaying me--for I have died +to my old self under it--hath made me to live. Therefore I publicly +acknowledge my sin, and bid you, my fellow pilgrims, deal with me as you +see fit, neither asking for mercy, nor in any wise claiming it as my +desert." + +Stephen Hopkins had bent forward, his elbows on his knees, hiding his +face in his hands. Giles stared straight before him, his brow dark red, +frowning till his face was drawn out of likeness to itself, his nether +lip held tight in his teeth. + +Poor Constance hid her misery in Oceanus's breast, holding the baby +close up against her so that no one could see her face. Little Damaris, +pale and quiet, too frightened to move or fully to breathe, clutched +Constance's arm, not understanding what was going forward, but knowing +that whatever it was it distressed everyone that constituted her little +world, and suffering under this knowledge. + +"My friends," Elder Brewster resumed his office, "you have heard what +Mistress Hopkins hath spoken. It is not for us to deny pardon to her. +She hath done all, and more than was required of her, in publicly +confessing her wrong. Let us take her by the hand, and let us pray that +she may live long to shed peace and joy upon the young people whom she +hath wronged, and might have wronged further, had not repentance found +her." + +One by one these severely stern people of Plymouth arose and, passing +before Mistress Hopkins, took her hand, and said: + +"Sister, we rejoice with you." Or some said: "Be of good consolation, +and Heaven's blessing be upon you." A few merely shook her hand and +passed on. + +Before many had thus filed past, Myles Standish leaped to his feet and +cried: "Stephen, Stephen Hopkins, come! There's a wild cat somewhere!" + +Stephen Hopkins went out after him, thankful to escape. + +"Poor old comrade," said Captain Standish, putting his hand on the +other's shoulder. "If only good and sincere people would consider what +these scenes, which relieve their nerves, cost others! There is a wild +cat somewhere; I did not lie for thee, Stephen, but in good sooth I've +no mortal idea where it may be!" + +He laughed, and Stephen Hopkins smiled. "You are a good comrade, Myles, +and we are as like as two peas in a pod. Certes, we find this Plymouth +pod tight quarters, do we not, at least at times? I've no liking for +airing private grievances in public: to my mind they belong between us +and the Lord!--but plainly my wife sees this as the right way. What +think you, Myles? Is it going to be better henceforward?" he said. + +"No doubt of that, no doubt whatever," asserted Myles, positively. "And +my pet Con is the chief instrument of Dame Eliza's change of heart! +Well, to speak openly, Stephen, I did not give thy wife credit for so +much sense! Constance is sweet, and fair, and winsome enough to bring +any one to her--his!--senses. Or drive him out of them! Better times +are in store for thee, Stephen, old friend, and I am heartily thankful +for it. So, now; take your family home, and do not mind the talk of +Plymouth. For a few days they will discuss thee, thy wife, thy son, and +thy daughter, but it will not be without praise for thee, and it will be +a strange thing if Giles and I cannot stir up another event that will +turn their attention from thee before thy patience quite gives out." + +Myles Standish laughed, and clapped his hand on his friend's shoulder by +way of encouragement to him to face what any man, and especially a man +of his sort, must dread to face--the comments and talk of his small +world. + +The Hopkins family went home in silence, Stephen Hopkins gently leading +his wife by her arm, for she was exhausted by the strain of her +emotions. + +Giles and Constance, walking behind them with the children, were +thinking hard, going back in their minds to their early childhood, to +the beautiful old mansion which both remembered dimly, to the +Warwickshire cousins, to their embittered days since their stepmother +had reigned over them, and now this marvellous change in her, this +strange acknowledgment from her before everyone--_their_ every-one--of +wrong done, and greater wrong attempted and abandoned. They both shrank +from the days to come, feeling that they could not treat their +stepmother as they had done, yet still less could they come nearer to +her, as would be their duty after this, without embarrassment. Giles +went at once to his room to postpone the evil hour, but Constance could +not escape it. + +She unfastened Damaris's cloak, trying to chatter to the child in her +old way, and she glanced up at her stepmother, as she knelt before +Damaris, to invite her to share their smiles. Dame Eliza was watching +her with longing that was almost fear. "Constance," she said in a low +voice. "Constance----?" She paused, extending her hands. + +Constance sprang up, forgetful of embarrassment, forgetful of old +wrongs, remembering only to pity and to forgive, like the sweet girl +that she was. + +"Ah, Mother, never mind! Love me now, and never mind that once you did +not!" she cried. + +Dame Eliza leaned to her and kissed her cheek. + +"Dear lass," she murmured, "how could I grudge thee thy father's love, +since needs must one love thee who knows thee?" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +The Third Summer's Garnered Yield + + +Side by side now, through the weary days of another year, Constance +Hopkins and her stepmother bore and vanquished the cruel difficulties +which those days brought. + +Dame Eliza had been sincere in her contrition as was proved by the one +test of sincerity--her actions bore out her words. + +Toward Giles she held herself kindly, yet never showed him affection. +But toward Constance her manner was what might be called eagerly +affectionate, as if she so longed to prove her love for the girl that +the limitations of speech and opportunity left her unsatisfied of +expression. + +Hunger was the portion of everyone in Plymouth; conditions had grown +harder with longer abiding there, except in the one--though that was +important--matter of the frightful epidemic of the first winter. + +In spite of want Constance grew lovelier as she grew older. She was now +a full-grown woman, tall with the slenderness of early youth. Her scant +rations did not give her the gaunt look that most of the pilgrims, even +the young ones, wore as they went on working hard and eating little. +Instead, it etherealized and spiritualized Constance's beauty. Under her +wonderful eyes, with their far-off look of a dreamer warmed and +corrected by the light in them of love and sacrifice, were shadows that +increased their brilliance. The pallor that had replaced the wild-rose +colour in her cheeks did not lessen the exquisite fairness of her skin, +and it set in sharp contrast to it the redness of her lips and +emphasized their sweetness. + +Dame Eliza watched her with a sort of awe, and Damaris was growing old +enough to offer to her sister's beauty the admiration that was apart +from her adoring love for that sister. + +"Connie would set London afire, Stephen Hopkins," said Dame Eliza to her +husband one day. "Why not send her over to her cousins in Warwickshire, +to your first wife's noble kindred, and let her come into her own? It +seems a sinful thing to keep her here to fade and wane where no eye can +see her." + +"This from you, Eliza!" cried Stephen Hopkins, honestly surprised, but +feigning to be shocked. "Nay but you and I have changed rôles! Never was +I the Puritan you are, yet have I seen enough of the world to know that +it hath little to offer my girl by way of peace and happiness, though it +kneel before her offering her adulation on its salvers. Constance is +safer here, and Plymouth needs her; she can give here, which is in very +truth better than receiving; especially to receive the heartaches that +the great world would be like to give one so lovely to attract its eye, +so sensitive to its disillusionments. And as to wasted, wife, Con gives +me joy, and you, too, and I think there is not one among us who does not +drink in her loveliness like food, where actual food is short. Captain +Myles and our doctor would be going lame and halt, and would feel blind, +I make no doubt, did they not meet Constance Hopkins on their ways, like +a flower of eglantine, fair and sweet, and for that matter look how she +helps the doctor in his ministrations! Nay, nay, wife; we will keep our +Plymouth maid, and I am certain there will come to her from across seas +one day the romance and happiness that should be hers." + +"Ah, well; life is short and it fades us sore. What does it matter where +it passes? I was a buxom lass myself, as you may remember, and look at +me now! Not that I was the rare creature that your girl is," sighed Dame +Eliza. "Is it true that Mr. Weston is coming hither?" + +"True that he is coming hither," assented her husband, "and to our +house. He hath made us many promises, but kept none. He hath come over +with fishermen, in disguise, hath been cast away and lost everything at +the hands of savages. He is taking refuge with us and we shall outfit +him and deal with him as a brother. I do not believe his protestations +of good-will and the service he will do us in return, when he gets back +to England. Yet we must deal generously, little as we have to spare, +with a man in distress such as his." + +"Giles is coming now, adown the way with a stranger; is this Mr. +Weston?" asked Dame Eliza. + +"I'll go out to greet and bring him in. Yes; this is the man," said Mr. +Hopkins, going forth to welcome a man, whom in his heart he could not +but dread. The guest stayed with the Hopkins family for a few days, till +the colony should be won over to give him beaver skins, under his +promise to repay them with generous interest, when he should have traded +them, and was once more in England to send to Plymouth something of its +requirements. + +On the final day of his stay Mr. Weston arose from the best seat in the +inglenook, which had been yielded to him as his right, and strolled +toward the door. + +"Come with me, my lad," he said to Giles. "I have somewhat to say to +thee." + +"Why not say it here?" asked Giles, surlily, though he followed slowly +after their guest. + +"Giles Hopkins, you like me not," said Weston, when they had passed out +of earshot. "Why is it? Surely I not only use you well, but you are the +one person in this plantation that hath all the qualities I like best in +a man: brains, courage, youth, good birth, which makes for spirit, and +good looks. Your sister is all this and more, yet is the 'more' because +she is a maid, and that excludes her from my preference for my purposes. +Giles Hopkins, are you the man I take you for?" + +"Faith, sir, that I cannot tell till you have shown me what form that +taking bears," said Giles. + +"There you show yourself! Prudence added to my list of qualities!" +applauded Weston, clapping Giles on the back with real, or pretended +enthusiasm. "I take you for a man with resolution, courage to seize an +opportunity to make your fortune, to put yourself among those men of +consequence who are secure of place, and means to adorn it. Will you +march with me upon the way I will open to you?" + +"'I dare do all that may become a man; who dares do more is none,'" +replied Giles. "I don't know where I learned that, but it sounds like +one of my father's beloved phrases, from his favourite poet. It seems +well to fit the case." + +"Shakespeare is not a Puritan text book," observed Weston, dryly. "No +Hopkins is ever fully atune with such a community as this. Therefore, +Giles, will you welcome my offer, as a more canting Plymouth pilgrim +might not. Not to waste more time: Will you collect, after I have gone, +all the skins which you can obtain from these settlers? And will you +hold them in a safe place together, assuring your neighbours that you +are secured of a market for them at better prices than they have ever +received? And will you then, after you have got together all the skins +available, ship them to me by means which I will open to you as soon as +I am sure of your coöperation? This will leave your Plymouth people +stripped to the winds; their commodity of trade gone, and, scant of food +as they are, they will come to heel like dogs behind him who will lead +them to meat. This will be yourself. I will furnish you with the means +to give them what they will require in order to be bound to you. You +shall be a prince of the New World, holding your little kingdom under +the great English throne; there shall be no end to your possible +grandeur. I will send you men, commodities for trade, arms, fine cloth +and raiment to fulfil the brightest fairy dreams of youth. And look you, +Giles Hopkins, this is no idle boast; it is within my power to do +exactly as I promise. Are you mine?" + +"Yours!" Giles spoke with difficulty, the blood mounting to his temples +and knotting its veins, his hands clenching and unclenching as if it was +almost beyond him to hold them from throttling his father's guest. "Am I +a man or a cur? Cur? Nay, no cur is so low as you would make me. Betray +Plymouth? Turn on these people with whom I've suffered and wrought? I +would give my hand to kick you out into yonder harbour and drown you +there as you deserve. I have but to turn you over to our governor, and +short ways will you get with the good beaver skins which have been given +to you by these people you want me to trick, scant though they are of +everything, and that owing to you who have never sent them anything but +your lying promises. Nay, turn not so white! You may keep your courage, +as you keep your worthless life. Neither will I betray you to them. But +see to it that this last day of your stay here is indeed the last one! +Only till sunset do I give you to get out of Plymouth. If you are within +our boundaries at moonrise I will deliver you over, and urge your +hanging. And be sure these starved immigrants will be in a mood to hang +you higher than Haman, when they hear of what you have laid before me, +against them who are in such straits." + +Mr. Weston did not delay to test Giles's sincerity. There was no +mistaking that he would do precisely as he promised, and Weston took his +departure a good two hours before sundown. + +Giles stood with his hands in his pockets beside his father as Weston +departed. + +"Giles, courtesy to a guest is a law that binds us all," suggested +Stephen Hopkins. + +"Mercy, rather," said Giles, tersely. He nodded to Mr. Weston without +removing his hands. "A last salute, Mr. Weston," he said. "I expect +never to meet you again, neither in this, nor any other world." + +"Giles!" cried Constance, shocked. + +"Son, what do you know of this man that you dare insult him in +departing?" said Mr. Hopkins. + +"That never will Plymouth receive one penny of value for the beaver +skins he hath taken, nor gratitude for the kindness shown him when he +was destitute," said Giles, turning on his heel shortly and leaving his +father to look after Weston, troubled by this confirmation of the doubt +that he had always felt of this false friend of Plymouth colony. + +The effect upon Giles of having put far from him temptation and stood +fast by his fellow-colonists, though no one but himself knew of it, was +to arouse in him greater zeal for the welfare of Plymouth than he had +felt before, and greater effort to promote it. + +Plymouth had been working upon the community plan; all its population +labouring together, sharing together the results of that labour, like +one large family. And, though the plan was based upon the ideal of +brotherhood, yet it worked badly; food was short, and the men not equal +in honest effort, nor willing to see their womankind tilling the soil +and bearing heavy burdens for others than their own families. So while +some bore their share of the work, and more, others lay back and +shirked. There must be a remedy found, and that at once, to secure the +necessary harvest in the second year, and third summer of the life of +the plantation. + +Giles Hopkins went swinging down the road after he had seen the last of +Mr. Weston. He was bound for the governor's house, but he came up with +William Bradford on the way and laid before him his thoughts. + +"Mr. Bradford," he said, "I've been considering. We shall starve to +death, even though we get the ship that is promised us from home, +bringing us all that for which we hope, unless we can raise better +crops. I am one of the youngest men, but may I lay before you my +suggestion?" + +"Surely, my son," said Governor Bradford. "Old age does not necessarily +include wisdom, nor youth folly. What do you advise?" + +"Give every family its allotment of land and seed," said Giles. "Let +each family go to work to raise what it shall need for itself, and abide +by the result of its own industry, or indolence, always supposing that +no misfortune excuses failure. I'll warrant we shall see new days--or +new sacks filled, which is more to the point--than when we let the +worthless profit by worth, or worth be discouraged by the leeches upon +it." + +Governor Bradford regarded Giles smilingly. "Thou art an emphatic lad, +Giles, but I like earnestness and strong convictions. Never yet was +there any one who did not believe in his own panacea for whatever evil +had set him to discovering it! It was Plato's conceit, and other +ancients with him, that bringing into the community of a commonwealth +all property, making it shared in common, was to make mankind happy and +prosperous. But I am of your opinion that it has been found to breed +much confusion and discontent, and that it is against the ordinance of +God, who made it a law that a man should labour for his own nearest of +kin, and transmit to them the fruit of his labours. So will I act upon +your suggestion, which I had already considered, having seen how wrong +was Plato's utopian plan, or at least how ill it was working here. With +the approval of our councillors, I will distribute land, seed, and all +else required, and establish individual production instead of our +commonality." + +"It is time we tried a new method, Governor Bradford," said Giles. +"Another year like these we've survived, and there would be no survival +of them. I don't remember how it felt to have enough to eat!" + +"Poor lad," said the governor, kindly, though to the full he had shared +the scarcity. "It is hard to be young and hungry, for at best youth is +rarely satisfied, and it must be cruel to see every day at the worst! +But I have good ground to hope that our winter is over and past, and +that the voice of the turtle will soon be heard in our land. In other +words, I think that a ship, or possibly more than one, will be here this +summer, bringing us new courage in new helpers, and supplies in plenty." + +"It is to be hoped," said Giles, and went away. + +The new plan was adopted, and it infused new enthusiasm into the +Plymouth people. Constance insisted upon having for her own one section +of her father's garden. Indeed all the women of the colony went to work +in the fields now, quite willingly, and without opposition from their +men, since their work was for themselves. + +"It was wholly different from having their women slaving for strong men +who were no kin to them, as they had done when the community plan +prevailed," said the men of Plymouth. And so the women of Plymouth went +to work willingly, even gaily. + +There was great hope of a large crop, early in May, when all the land +was planted, and little green heads were everywhere popping up to +announce the grain to come. Constance had planted nothing but peas; she +said that she loved them because they climbed so bravely, and put out +their plucky tendrils to help themselves up. Her peas were the pride of +her heart, and all Plymouth was admiring them, when the long drouth set +in. + +From the third week in May till the middle of July not a drop of rain +fell upon the afflicted fields of Plymouth. The corn had been planted +with fish, which for a time insured it moisture and helped it, but +gradually the promising green growth drooped, wilted, browned, and on +the drier plain, burned and died under the unshadowed sun. + +Constance saw her peas drying up, helpless to save them. She fell into +the habit of sitting drooping like the grain, on the doorstep of the +Leyden Street house, her bonnet pushed back, her chin in her hands, +sorrowfully sharing the affliction of the soil. + +Elder Brewster, passing, found her thus, and stopped. + +"Not blithe Constantia like this?" he said. + +"Ah, yes, Mr. Brewster," said Constance, rising, "just like this. The +drouth has parched my heart and dried up my courage. For nine weeks no +rain, and our life hanging upon it! Oh, Elder Brewster, call for a day +of fasting and prayer that we may be pitied by the Lord with the +downfall of his merciful rain! Without it, without His intervention, +starvation will be ours. But it needs not me to tell you this!" + +"My daughter, I will do as you say; indeed is it time, and I have been +thinking so," replied the elder. "The day after to-morrow shall be set +aside to implore Heaven's mercy on our brave plantation, which has borne +and can offer the sacrifice of a long-suffering patience to supplement +its prayers." + +The day of fast and prayer arose with the same metallic sky that had +cloudlessly stretched over Plymouth for two months. Not a sign of mercy, +nor of relenting was anywhere above them as the people of Plymouth, the +less devout subdued to the same fearless eagerness to implore for mercy +that the more devout ones felt, went silently along the dusty roads, +heads bent beneath the scorching sun, without having tasted food, +assembling in their meeting house to pray. + +In the rear of the bare little building stood the Indians who lived +among the Englishmen, Squanto at their head, with folded arms watching +and wondering what results should follow this appeal to the God of the +white men, now to be tested for the first time in a great public way as +to whether He was faithful to His promise, as these men said, and +powerful to fulfil. + +All day long the prayer continued, with the coming and going of the +people, taking turns to perform the necessary tasks of the small farms, +and to continue in supplication. + +There had been no hotter day of all those so long trying these poor +people, and no cloud appeared as the sun mounted and reached his height, +then began to descend. Damaris took Constance's hand as they walked +homeward, then dropped it. + +"It is too hot; it burns me," she said, fretfully. + +Constance raised her head and pushed back her hair with the backs of her +burning hands. She folded her lips and snuffed the air, much as a fine +dog stands to scent the birds. Constance was as sensitive to atmospheric +conditions as a barometer. + +"Damaris, Damaris, rain!" she cried. + +And the "little cloud, no bigger than a man's hand," was rising on the +horizon. + +Before bedtime the sky was overcast, and the blessed, the prayed-for +rain began to fall. Without wind or lightning, quietly it fell, as if +the angels of God were sent to open the phials of the delicious wetness +and pour it steadily upon Plymouth. As the night went on the rain +increased, one of the soft, steady, soaking rains that penetrate to the +depths of the sun-baked earth, find the withered rootlets, and heal and +revivify. + +Plymouth wakened to an earth refreshed and moistened by a downpour so +steady, so generous, so calm that no rain could have seemed more like a +direct visitation of Heaven's mercy than this, which the reverent and +awe-stricken colony, even to the doubting Indians, so received. For by +it Plymouth was saved. + +It was two weeks later that Doctor Fuller came hastily to Stephen +Hopkins's door. + +"Friends," he said, with trembling voice, "the _Anne_ is coming up! +Mistress Fuller and my child are aboard, as we have so often reminded +one another. Constance, you promised to go with me to welcome this +fateful ship." + +"Have I time to make a little, a very small toilette, doctor mine?" +cried Constance, excitedly. "I want to look my prettiest to greet +Mistress Fuller, and to tell her what I--what we all owe to you." + +"You have a full half hour, yet it is a pleasure to watch the ship +approach. Hasten, then, vain little Eve of this desolate First Abiding +Place!" the doctor gave her permission. + +Constance ran away and began to dress with her heart beating fast. + +"I wonder why the _Anne_ means so much to me, as if she were the +greatest event of all my days here?" she thought. + +Her simple white gown slipped over her head and into place and out of +its thin, soft folds her little throat rose like a calla, and her face, +all flushed, like a wild rose. + +She pinned a lace neckerchief over her breast, and laid its ruffles into +place with fluttering fingers, catching it with a delicate hoop of +pearls that had been her mother's. For once she decided against her +Puritan cap, binding her radiant hair with fillets of narrow blue velvet +ribbon, around and over which its little tendrils rose, wilful and +resisting its shackles. + +On her hands she drew long mitts of white lace, and she slipped her feet +into white shoes, which had also once been worn by her mother in +far-away days when she danced the May dances in Warwickshire. + +Constance's glass was too small, too high-hung, to give her the effect +of her complete figure, but it showed her the face that scanned it, and +what it showed her flushed that lovely face with innocent joy in its +loveliness, and completed its perfection. + +She got the full effect of her appearance in the eyes of the four men in +the colony whom, till this day, she had loved best, her father, Giles, +Doctor Fuller, and Myles Standish, as she came down the winding stairway +to them. + +They all uttered an involuntary exclamation, and took a step toward her. + +Her father took her hand and tucked it into his own. + +"You are attired like a bride, my wild rose," he said. "Who are you +going to meet?" + +"Who knows!" cried Constance, gaily, with unconscious prophecy. +"Mistress Fuller, but who can say whom else beside?" + +The _Anne_ came up with wide-spread canvas, free of the gentle easterly +breeze. Her coming marked the end of the hardest days of Plymouth +colony; she was bringing it much that it needed, some sixty colonists; +the wives and children of many who had borne the brunt of the beginning +and had come on the _Mayflower_; new colonists, some among Plymouth's +best, some too bad to be allowed to stay, and stores and articles of +trade abundantly. + +As the coming of the _Anne_ marked the close of Plymouth's worst days, +so it meant to many who were already there the dawn of a new existence. + +Doctor Fuller took into his arms his beloved wife and his child, with +grateful tears running down his face. + +He turned to present Mistress Fuller to Constance, but found, instead, +Captain Myles Standish watching with a smile at once tender, melancholy, +and glad another meeting. A young man, tall, browned, gallant, and +fearless in bearing, with honest eyes and a kindly smile, had come off +the _Anne_ and had stood a moment looking around him. His eyes fell upon +Constance Hopkins on her father's arm, her lips parted, her eyes +dilated, her cheeks flushed, a figure so exquisite that he fell back in +thrilled wonder. Never again could he see another face, so completely +were his eyes and heart filled by this first sight of Constance Hopkins, +unconsciously waiting for him, her husband-to-be, upon the shore of the +New World. + +Damaris was clinging to her hand; Giles and her step-mother were +watching her with loving pride; it was easy to see that all those who +had come ashore from the _Anne_ were admiring this slender blossom of +Plymouth. + +But the young man went toward her, almost without knowing that he did +so, drawn to her irresistibly, and Constance looked toward him, and saw +him for the first time, her pulses answering the look in his eyes. + +Myles Standish joined them; he had learned the young man's name. + +"Welcome, Nicholas Snowe, to Plymouth," he said. "We have borne much, +but we have won our fight; we have founded our kingdom. Nicholas Snowe, +this is a Plymouth maid, Constance Hopkins." + +"I am glad you are come," said Constance; her voice was low and the hand +that she extended trembled slightly. + +"I, too, am glad that you are here, Nicholas Snowe," added Stephen +Hopkins. "Yes, this is Constance Hopkins, a Plymouth maid, and my +dearest lass." + + +THE END + + + + +THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS + +GARDEN CITY, N. Y. + + +Transcriber's Notes: + +Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). + +Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals. + +Page 36: "remanent" changed to "remnant" (what would my remnant of life +be to me) + +Page 51: "so" changed to "no" (I mean no such thing, as well you know) + +Page 67: "senstive" changed to "sensitive" (a girl, sensitive and easily +wounded) + +Page 83: "devasting" changed to "devastating" (The devastating diseases +of winter) + +Page 106: "begining" changed to "beginning" (the beginning of a street) + +Page 140: "wordly" changed to "worldly" (to take pride in worldly things) + +Page 160: normalised "work-aday" (her work-a-day tasks) + +Page 180: changed case of "Come" to lower case (come with me; I need +you) + +Page 192: "mercie" changed to "merci" (belle dame sans merci) + +Page 196: "be" changed to "he" (he began to teach Constance other +things) + +Page 210 "Shakspeare" normalised to "Shakespeare" (we mortals be, +as Shakespeare, whom) + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Pilgrim Maid, by Marion Ames Taggart + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A PILGRIM MAID *** + +***** This file should be named 39323-8.txt or 39323-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/3/2/39323/ + +Produced by Roger Frank, Maria Grist and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |