own pinnace and set you across the bay, and be back again before my
mates have well missed me."

"So wilt thou save me from some such explosion as befalls when a little
pot is tightly closed and its contents overheated," replied Myles with a
grim smile, and although Conant stared at the odd simile, he paused not
to ask its solution, but so hastened the building of the stage and the
other business of the day that when sunset fell, the two men, leaving
the rest at an amicable supper eaten in common, spread the wide sails of
their pinnace to a fitful western wind, and skimmed southward under the
soothing and chastening light of the new-risen moon.

The western wind though often sighing in capricious languor never quite
deserted those who trusted to it, and at a good hour next morning the
pinnace dropped her anchor beside the Anne, and her dory carried the two
mew ashore just as Plymouth woke to a new day.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

BARBARA.

"Wilt give me some breakfast, Priscilla?" asked a well-known voice, as
Mistress Alden bent to uncover her bake kettle, or Dutch oven, to see if
the manchets of fine flour her husband liked so heartily were well
browned.

"Lord-a-mercy!" cried she nearly dropping the cover and springing to her
feet. "What, 't is truly thee, Captain, and not thy spook? Why 't was
but yester e'en Dame Bradford told me thou wert away with Master Bridges
on a fishing adventure, and none might guess the day of thy return."

"She said so, did she?" replied the captain; "and who heard it beside
thee, Priscilla?"

"Why--now let me think--yea and verily, Christian Penn was in the room
and no doubt heard the sad tidings though she said naught."

"And none beside, Mistress Alden?"

"None--nay, now I think on 't, thy kinswoman Barbara was in presence.
But there, my manchets will be burnt to crusts. Sit thee down, Captain,
sit thee down."

"And what said Mistress Standish anent my going?" asked Myles seating
himself upon a three-legged stool and doffing his slouched hat.

Priscilla looked at him with one of the keen glances which John declared
counted the cockles of a man's heart. Then she smiled with an air of
satisfaction and replied,--

"Barbara said naught, and so told me much."

"Told thee much? Come now, Priscilla, spare me thine old-time jibes and
puzzlements and show thyself true womanly, and mine own honest friend.
I'm sore bestead, Priscilla--I have a quarrel with Myles Standish, and
't i