Standish of Standish: A Story of the PilgrimsAustin, Jane G. (Jane Goodwin)
History
Standish of Standish: A Story of the Pilgrims
Austin, Jane G. (Jane Goodwin)
Massachusetts -- History -- New Plymouth, 1620-1691 -- Fiction
"And not one of us Fortune men, Captain?" demanded Robert Hicks, a
stalwart fellow who afterward became almost a rebel to the colony's
authority.
"Nay, Master Hicks," replied the captain gravely. "I mean no discredit
to the courage or the good will of the new-comers, of whom you are a
principal; but this service is one of strategy as well as daring, and so
soon as the pinnace leaves yon Rock, there must be but one mind and one
will in her, and that is mine. The men whom I have chosen, my comrades
of the Mayflower, I know as I know mine own sword, and I can trust them
as I do him. There's no offense Master Hicks, but a stricken field is no
place to learn to handle a new sword or a new comrade."
"And not me, Master," said a low voice as the captain stepped out of the
Common house and turned his face homeward.
"Nay, Jack, I've a text for thee too. 'I have married a wife and cannot
come.'" And with a somewhat bitter laugh he strode on up the hill,
leaving John Alden looking sadly after him.
That night as Standish slowly entered the Fort to fire his sunset gun,
he was startled at seeing a muffled figure seated upon an empty powder
keg in an angle of the works. As he appeared she rose, and pushing back
her hood showed the beautiful face of Priscilla Molines, now strangely
pale and distraught.
"You here, Mistress Molines," exclaimed the captain somewhat sternly.
"Alden is not coming."
"It is not Alden but Captain Standish I fain would speak withal, and I
hope he will pardon my forwardness in seeking him here."
The captain briefly waved the apology aside. "Your commands, madam?"
inquired he.
"Nay, nay sir, my father's dear loved friend, my brother's tender
nurse,--mine--oh what shall I say, how shall I plead for a little
kindness. Have pity on a froward maid's distress"--
"What Priscilla, thou canst weep!"
"And why not when my heart is sorrowful unto death."
"But--there then, child, wipe thine eyes and look up and let me see thee
smile as thou art wont. What is it, maid? What is thy sorrow?"
"That you will not forgive me, sir."
"Forgive thee for what?" But the captain dropped the hand he had seized
in his sympathy, and the dark look crept back to his face.
"Thou 'rt going to a terrible danger--my friend--and it may be to thy
death."
"Well girl, 't is not worth crying for if I am. Life is not so sweet to
me that I should over much dread to lay it down with honor."
"Oh, oh, and it is my fault!"--sobbed Priscilla.
The captain strode up and down the narrow space pulling at his red beard
and frowning thoughtfully; then stopping before the girl who stood as he
had left her, he quietly said,--
"Priscilla, I was indeed thy father's friend, and I am thine, and I fain
would have wed thee, and thou didst refuse, preferring John Alden, who
also is my friend, even as my younger brother, whose honor and well
being are dear to me as mine own. What then is the meaning of thy grief,
and what is thy request?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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