The letters were read, and as page after page of Lyford’s malignant treachery, and Oldhame’s fierce vituperation was turned, murmurs of indignation, ominous mutterings, with here and there a groan or a faint hiss arose from the benches, especially when the freemen heard it recommended that the Adventurers should, as soon as possible, send a body of men “to over-sway those here;” that they should at all risks prevent Pastor Robinson’s coming, and should, if possible, depose Winslow from his position as agent. Again a subdued commotion was excited by the advice to send over a certain captain, who had apparently been previously mentioned, with the promise that he should at once be chosen military leader, “for this Captaine Standish looks like a silly boy, and is in utter contempt.” In hearing this philippic many an eye was turned upon its subject, but he, standing at ease with one hand upon Gideon’s hilt, only gathered his beard in the other fist and smiled good-humoredly. He at least was “moskeeto-proof.” “And now, men,” demanded the governor, turning to the people, “what have you to say? Let any one who would make a proposal as to our dealing with these two speak his mind freely.” But before any other could reply to this demand, Lyford, breaking away from Oldhame’s fierce restraint, fell upon his knees, bursting into tears and sobs, wringing his hands, and cringing to the floor, while he howled out all sorts of self-accusations, calling himself a miserable sinner, “unsavorie salt,” Judas, and many other opprobrious epithets, doubting, as he professed, if God would ever pardon him, and in any case despairing of the forgiveness of his benefactors and hosts, for he had so wronged them as to pass all forgiveness. Finally, he confessed in the most abject terms that “all he had writ against them was false and naught, both for matter and manner,” and professed himself willing and anxious to retract everything in the presence of God, angels, and men. But the scene was soon cut short, for the self-respecting men who listened to this abjection found it too great a humiliation of the divine image in man, and while the culprit still sobbed and whined at his feet, the governor, briefly ordering him to rise and be silent, turned to the people and repeated his demand for their suffrages.