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.