CHAPTER XXXII.
THE SUNSET GUN.
The town meeting was over, and its decisions if important wereunanimous, even Elder Brewster, converted perhaps by Standish's Biblicalreferences, giving his voice for the stringent measures renderednecessary by the growth and magnitude of the conspiracy.
Captain Standish with what force he might select was to take thepinnace, and under cover of a trading expedition make a landing atWeymouth, and first of all discover from the colonists themselves thetruth of their condition. If it should prove as represented he was to atonce attack whatever leaders of the conspiracy might be found, and inespecial he was to slay Wituwamat, of whom Massasoit had spoken as theheart of the conspiracy, and to bring his head to Plymouth to be setover the gate of the Fort as a proof and a warning to their neighbors onthe east, whom they would not now punish, but hoped rather to persuade.
"And now, Captain Standish, it were well that you should select thosewhom you will have of your company, while we are all gathered togetherhere," said the governor when the primary question had been finallydecided.
Standish rose and looked thoughtfully from face to face.
"'T is a hard matter," said he at last with a gleam of pride in hiseye. "Here be fifty good men and true, and I need no more than half adozen."
"The Neponsets number forty warriors," suggested Winslow.
"Yes, but they will not be gathered together, having no knowledge of ourpurpose, and if the shallop is watched from shore, as belike it will be,a large force of armed men would bewray our intent, and runners wouldgather the braves in a few hours and so bring down a great slaughterupon the tribe," replied the captain in confident simplicity. "But if wego no more in number than ordinary, no more than in our late voyage toNauset for corn, they will suspect nothing, and the matter may be wellconcluded with no more than five or six examples, Wituwamat being theprincipal."
"And glad am I, brother, to see a certain tenderness of human life inyour counsels," said the elder approvingly.
"Nay, elder, I am not all out a cannibal and ogre," replied the captain."So now I will choose me Hopkins and Howland and Billington, and Eatonand Browne and Cooke and Soule, seven hearts of oak and arms of steel:it is enough."
"And not one of us Fortune men, Captain?" demanded Robert Hicks, astalwart fellow who afterward became almost a rebel to the colony'sauthority.
"Nay, Master Hicks," replied the captain gravely. "I mean no discreditto the courage or the good will of the new-comers, of whom you are aprincipal; but this service is one of strategy as well as daring, and sosoon as the pinnace leaves yon Rock, there must be but one mind and onewill in her, and that is mine. The men whom I have chosen, my comradesof the Mayflower, I know as I know mine own sword, and I can trust themas I do him. There's no offense Master Hicks, but a stricken field is noplace 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 theCommon house and turned his face homeward.
"Nay, Jack, I've a text for thee too. 'I have married a wife and cannotcome.'" 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 powderkeg in an angle of the works. As he appeared she rose, and pushing backher hood showed the beautiful face of Priscilla Molines, now strangelypale 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 Ihope 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 tendernurse,--mine--oh what shall I say, how shall I plead for a littlekindness. 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 theesmile 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 seizedin 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 thydeath."
"Well girl, 't is not worth crying for if I am. Life is not so sweet tome 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 beardand frowning thoughtfully; then stopping before the girl who stood as hehad left her, he quietly said,--
"Priscilla, I was indeed thy father's friend, and I am thine, and I fainwould have wed thee, and thou didst refuse, preferring John Alden, whoalso is my friend, even as my younger brother, whose honor and wellbeing are dear to me as mine own. What then is the meaning of thy grief,and what is thy request?"
"My grief is that since the day I gave John Alden my promise, you, sir,have been no more my friend, but ever looked upon me with coldness anddisdain; and now that you go, it may be to your death, it breaketh myheart to have it so, and I fain would beg your forgiveness for aught Ihave done to offend you, though I know not what it may be."
"Know not--well, well, let it pass--'t is but one more traverse. Yeschild, I forgive thee for what to me seemed like something of scorn andslight, something of double dealing and treachery--nay, we'll say nomore on 't. Here is my hand, Priscilla--and surely thy father's friendmay for once taste thy cheek. Now child, we're friends and dear friends,and if yon savage sheathes his knife in my heart perhaps thou 'lt sheda tear or two, and say a prayer for the soul of--thy father's friend.And now thy petition, for time presses."
"That thou wilt take John Alden with thee."
"What then! Who shall read a woman's will aright! I left him at home forthy sake, Priscilla."
"So I guessed and I thank you--nay, I thank you not for so misjudgingme." And the fire in the hazel eyes upraised to his, dried the tearssharply.
"Why, what now! Dost want thy troth-plight lover slain?"
"No in truth, nor do I want my troth-plight friend, for thou art thatnow, slain; but neither do I want the one nor the other to lurk safelyat home when his brothers are at the war. There's no coward's blood inmy heart more than in yours, Captain Standish, and I care not to shelterany man behind my petticoats. I have not wed John Alden all this longyear and more, because I would not wed with your frown black upon myheart, and I will not wed him now until he hath showed himself a manupon that same field whence you do not greatly care to come alive."
"Nay, Priscilla, I care more now for life than I did an hour since, forI have a friend."
"And you will take John, and if he comes home alive you'll smile uponour marriage?"
"Yes girl, yes to both. God bless you, Priscilla, for a brave and truewoman. And now--good-night."
A moment later as the dark clad figure flitted down the hill Standishstood with bared head and fixed eyes silent for a little space, and thenthe boom of the sunset gun sounded in solemn Amen to the soldier'ssilent prayer.
Standish of Standish: A Story of the Pilgrims Page 33
