“Yes,” replied the stranger, gazing curiously after Standish, “we found the bones of the hanged man lying in a heap under the tree, and the marks of a deadly fray in the house where Pecksuot fell.” “Ay, so. It was a sad necessity, and one almost as grievous to us as to the savages,” returned Bradford. “Now, sirs, we have no quarrel with you, nor wish for any. Your skiff will not float until three hours after noon, and when she does we shall doubtless send away Master Oldhame in her; meantime, you are welcome to look about and see our town and Fort, and discourse with the people. Master Hopkins, will you see that these men have some dinner?” “Such as ’tis, they’re welcome to some of mine,” promptly replied Hopkins, whose comfortable house stood on the corner of Leyden and Main streets just opposite the governor’s, and whose garden stretched along to Middle Street, not yet laid out. The size and convenience of his house, and the bountiful and cheerful hospitality of his wife, who, with the aid of her daughters Constance, Damaris, and Deborah, administered the domestic affairs, combining English thrift and neatness with colonial abundance, gave Hopkins the frequent opportunity of entertaining visitors to Plymouth, while Bradford saw that he was no loser by such a course. Meanwhile the governor and his council sat in conclave, secure that their decision would find favor with the people, or at any rate with that nucleus and backbone of the commonalty known as “the first-comers,” meaning the passengers of the Mayflower, the Fortune, and the Anne, with her tender the Little James. At noon the tide turned, and the town went to dinner. About half past two Bartholomew Allerton beat the “assembly” in the Town Square, and at the well-understood summons men, women, and children gathered in the square, or clustered in the open doorways, all filled with curiosity as to the mode of punishment about to be meted out to the returned exile, and yet none in the least doubt as to its justice. Even the men whom he had brought with him to be the witnesses of his triumph stood supinely to view his disgrace, muttering among themselves, and casting uneasy glances down the hill to where their shallop lay still aground at the foot of the Rock, while the larger boat hardly swung afloat on the breast of the young tide.