Betty Alden: The first-born daughter of the PilgrimsAustin, Jane G. (Jane Goodwin)
History
Betty Alden: The first-born daughter of the Pilgrims
Austin, Jane G. (Jane Goodwin)
United States -- History -- Colonial period, ca. 1600-1775 -- Fiction
“Not your wife!” echoed he. “Nay, nay; if I’d known that, I would not
have named her in presence of this modest gentlewoman. But how is
it, then, that she spake of you as her lord? Nay, I’ll not push the
matter, sith I see ’tis an over-delicate matter. Wow! this wind cuts
through one’s blood. Mistress Prissie, I much fear me you’ll catch a
megrim if you linger longer by the brookside, and Betty, ’tis high time
thou wert helping thy mother with the supper; run home, little maids,
and Sir Christopher, I’ll show you something more to your taste than
spring flowers and young lassies. Come up to the Fort and help me fire
the sunset gun.”
Sir Christopher’s face was very dark, and possibly enough the captain
had not so easily taken his captive, but that Prissie Carpenter,
ashamed and terrified at the meaning she suspected under the captain’s
debonair look and voice, had already fled toward the village, followed
by Betty with a basket full of flowers, but a conscience full of thorns.
Seeing that resistance had thus become useless, the knight gloomily
accepted his defeat, and clomb the hill beside the captain, whose
jovial manner suddenly dropped into silence, nor did he speak until
the two men stood upon the roof of the Fort. Then, while the sun,
disdaining the mantle of gold and purple officiously presented by the
western clouds, sank in undimmed glory to the horizon, and resting
there an instant seemed to view once more the fair domain he now must
abandon, Standish, his lighted match in one hand, laid a finger of the
other upon his companion’s breast.
“Sir Christopher Gardiner,” said he, “we breed no Mary Groves in these
parts, and yon young gentlewoman is the sister of our governor, and the
promised wife of one of our worthiest citizens. ’Twould go hard with
the man that trifled with her, and well do I hope no more hath been
said than is soon forgotten and will leave no blot behind.”
“Since when hath Myles Standish added the duty of father confessor to
his other cares?” demanded Gardiner with a sneer.
“Ask rather, what sin hath he committed so notable as to call for the
penance of listening to thy confession, my son?” retorted the captain
good-humoredly. “Nay, man, take my hint in good part, as indeed ’tis
meant. This maid is not for thy fooling, and thine own affairs are
like to give thee trouble enough without mixing and moiling them
further. Ha! the sun is going”-- Puff! and the dull boom of heavy metal
resounded across the quiet town, and startled the eagle circling above
his nest on Captain’s Hill.
Then the two men went silently down the hill, and whatever may have
been the knight’s secret resolves of virtue, he never again found the
opportunity to test them.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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