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Soldier Rigdale: How He Sailed in the Mayflower and How He Served Miles Standish

Page 6

by Beulah Marie Dix


  CHAPTER VI

  THE GOING LANDWARD

  GOODMAN RIGDALE had died that day at noon; he had seemed sure ofrecovery, but there came a sudden change, and, with the ebbing of thetide, his life went out. So much they made Miles understand, gently asthey could. Dolly cried with choked sobbings, and Constance Hopkins,who had come out and taken the little girl in her arms, cried too. ButMiles, who sat apart from the others, astride one of the benches, didnot cry,--just scowled before him in stupid fashion, and half snarled,"Don't touch me," at Goodwife Tinker and the other women who hadhastened up to sympathize.

  He was aware of the people about him and the lantern light; that wasall. Something inside him seemed benumbed, and he did not care totalk, or cry, or do aught but sit still. He listened to Dolly; she waswailing now, "I want my mother. Oh, take me to my mother!" He wishedshe would hush; it worried him.

  Then he heard some one else speak: "Look you, Captain; Will Trevor andI are fresh enough to do 't, and there's the small boat belongs to theshallop. And Rigdale's goodwife will be wanting her bairns to-night. Ifyou give the word, Will and I, we'll row them ashore."

  Miles looked up and saw Ned Lister, his cap on straight and his faceearnest, speaking with the Captain. He rose, and, a little unsteadily,pushed the women aside, so he could clutch Ned's arm. "I want to goashore," he whispered chokedly. "Take me now."

  "You shall go," said Captain Standish. "I'll bid them make ready theboat."

  "You and the little wench get on your cloaks briskly," Ned admonished,as he turned to follow the Captain. "We'll be ready ere you be."

  Constance came down with the two children to the cabin beneath the maindeck. It seemed darker and colder than ever before, and Dolly's cloakstrings were tied in a hard knot, and Miles could not find his mittens.At the very last, as, in stupid fashion, he searched for them a thirdtime in a bag that held some odds and ends of his mother's, he heardDolly cry, "Oh, Solomon, poor Solomon! Don't leave him behind, Miles. Iknow they'll not tend him. And daddy was fond of him."

  The cat was dozing among the blankets, but when Miles, slow anduncomprehending, tried to seize him, he took fright and ran beneath thebunk.

  "We've the boat ready. Quickly, Miles!" called Ned Lister in thepassageway.

  Miles saw Solomon's eyes shining yellow in the dark beneath the bunk,and, making a grab, he clutched the cat. The creature spit and clawed,but Miles, with his hands bleeding, still clung to him, and, headlong,thrust him into the bag that had held their biscuit. One white paw camestruggling out, but the boy shoved it in roughly, and drew the stringstight.

  "Wait, wait! Your cloak, Miles." Constance detained him, and fastenedhis cloak about his neck. Miles suffered her, like a very little boy,and then, slinging Solomon's bag over one shoulder, he followed Dollyup on deck.

  The rain, pelting on his cheeks and forehead, half blinded him, andthe faces of the men, seen fitfully beneath the flaring light of thelantern at the gangway, looked strange to him. Their voices had nomeaning, and they must repeat the question when one asked: "What haveyou there, Miles? Give me the bag; I'll hand it you."

  Miles shook his head and pressed the bag tighter beneath his arm; hecould feel the cat's soft body writhing and struggling within. Theybrought him over to the gangway ladder, and, holding by one hand, hescrambled down it. How black the line of bulwarks looked against thelantern light, as the ship heaved upward! There he half slipped, whenhe felt some one catch him round the body, and he was dropped down onthe stern seat of the little boat. Dolly pressed close to him, and,putting his arm round her, he held tight to her and to Solomon. Theyhad turned the lantern now so the light flashed into the boat, and herealized it was Lister who sat upon the forward thwart, and the otherman, who was standing up to push them off from the ship's side, was thesailor, Will Trevor.

  At last they were clear, out on the wide, rough water, and, with amotion of spitting on his hands, Trevor dropped into his seat andgripped his oar. As the boat swung round, Miles had sight of theblack bulk of the _Mayflower_, with a lantern gleaming on her highquarter-deck and another just receding from her gangway. Then, as theboat headed for the shore, he could see the ship only by turning hishead, and that was too great an effort to make.

  The thole-pins creaked, and the water slapped against the prow. Thewaves were running high, and, as the little boat leaped them, sheseemed to throb through her frame. The oars and the sea that wrestledtogether made the only sound, for the rain that dropped steadily was aquiet rain, and the men who rowed for the most part kept silent. Once,to be sure, Trevor growled: "How're we heading, Ned?"

  Miles noted dully how Lister rested on his oar and turned his facelandward. "I can just make out a light," he answered. "Pest on thisrain! More to larboard we must run."

  For another space they tugged at the oars in silence, while Milesstared unheedingly into the dark, till suddenly Trevor called, "Hey,lad, what's wrong wi' thy bag?"

  Solomon's struggles had loosed the fastenings, Miles found; he thrustthe animal back and tied the strings again, slowly and stiffly, for hishands were cold and sore too, where they had been scratched.

  "What sort o' luggage be ye travelling with?" Trevor asked, betweenstrokes, in a tone that was so amused that Miles felt an angry shock:what right had the sailor to find any merriment in life, while Dollywas sobbing so? Next moment the anger passed, and instead, Mileswondered that Dolly should cry, for it was not true, whatever they hadsaid; his father would surely come forth from the Common House to meetthem, and he would look just as Miles had seen him on that last day.

  Yonder beneath the black bluff shone a light. Miles could see it now,and he stared unthinkingly, till it grew larger and brighter, and thena sudden jar almost threw him from his seat. "I'll hold her steady,"spoke Trevor. "Do thou get out the younkers, Ned."

  "Come, come, Miley, are you asleep?" said Lister. Miles saw himkneeling on the rock close beside him, holding the boat's gunwale withone hand, and with the other outstretched. "Give me the bag. Now then,steady. Ah! You did yourself hurt?"

  Miles picked himself up from the rock where he had fallen; his kneeswere aching, and he suddenly felt he should like to cry. "Yes, I hurtme," he said dazedly. "Give me Solomon."

  He made his way, groping through the dark, to the path beneath thebluff that led up to the settlement. The ground had thawed, so broadpuddles had formed; he must have splashed into one, for, as he stepped,his shoes squeaked with water. Ned Lister strode up alongside him, withDolly gathered in his arms. "You come with me up to the Elder's house,Miley," he said breathlessly, for Ned was wiry, rather than robust, andDolly was a heavy little maid.

  All the way up the hill Miles had a sickening sense of awaking tosomething full of dread. The ground and the sky and the dimly seenhouses were now all real; he felt the rain and the cold and the weightof the bag on his arm, and he began to realize that what had happenedalso was no dream.

  "Oh!" he cried, with a sudden hard gasp, and, dropping the bag, brokeinto a run. He stumbled and slipped, but pantingly he held on till hereached the Brewsters' cottage. From one of the tiny windows a lightshone forth, but it blinded without aiding him. He fumbled a moment atthe heavy door, then, grasping the rude latch at last, thrust it openwith his shoulder, and plunged headlong into the common room.

  On the hearth, opposite the door, a fire blazed, and on the tableflickered a candle. Spite of the dazzle of sudden light, Miles made outa woman, just turning from the fire, and, knowing her for the Elder'swife, ran to her. "Where's my mother, my mother?" he cried.

  "Hush, hush, Miles! You must quiet yourself ere you see her," MistressBrewster urged, never so gently.

  But there came from an adjoining room his mother's voice: "Miles, I amhere. Come to me."

  The narrow chamber was dark, but, seated in the far corner, he coulddistinguish a woman's bowed figure, and, stumbling heavily across thefloor, he flung himself on his knees beside her. "Mother! Oh, mother!"he choked, and, burying his face in her lap, burst out crying.

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