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Bathsheba's beautiful face, and his friend in the front of the battle!

Shame and confusion of guilt, and abasement and selfcondemnation,

Overwhelmed him at once; and he cried in the deepest contrition:

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"It hath displeased the Lord! It is the temptation of Satan!"

Then, uplifting his head, he looked at the sea, and beheld there

Dimly the shadowy form of the Mayflower riding at anchor,

Rocked on the rising tide, and ready to sail on the

morrow;

Heard the voices of men through the mist, the rattle

of cordage

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Thrown on the deck, the shouts of the mate, and the sailors' "Ay, ay, Sir!"

Clear and distinct, but not loud, in the dripping air of the twilight.

Still for a moment he stood, and listened, and stared at the vessel,

Then went hurriedly on, as one who, seeing a phantom, Stops, then quickens his pace, and follows the beckon

ing shadow.

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"Yes, it is plain to me now," he murmured; "the hand of the Lord is

Leading me out of the land of darkness, the bondage of error,

Through the sea, that shall lift the walls of its waters around me,

Hiding me, cutting me off, from the cruel thoughts that pursue me.

Back will I go o'er the ocean, this dreary land will

abandon,

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Her whom I may not love, and him whom my heart has offended.

Better to be in my grave in the green old churchyard in England,

Close by my mother's side, and among the dust of my kindred;

Better be dead and forgotten, than living in shame and dishonor!

Sacred and safe and unseen, in the dark of the narrow

chamber

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With me my secret shall lie, like a buried jewel that glimmers

Bright on the hand that is dust, in the chambers of silence and darkness,

876-878 Look up Exodus xiv. 21-29.

Yes, as the marriage ring of the great espousal hereafter!"

Thus as he spake, he turned, in the strength of his strong resolution,

Leaving behind him the shore, and hurried along in the twilight,

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Through the congenial gloom of the forest silent and

sombre,

Till he beheld the lights in the seven houses of Plymouth,

Shining like seven stars in the dusk and mist of the evening.

Soon he entered his door, and found the redoubtable

Captain

Sitting alone, and absorbed in the martial pages of

Cæsar,

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Fighting some great campaign in Hainault or Brabant

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or Flanders.

Long have you been on your errand," he said with a cheery demeanor,

Even as one who is waiting an answer, and fears not the issue.

388 The great espousal: look up Revelation xix. 7.

396 Hainault, Brabant, Flanders: all counties of the Netherlands which are now incorporated in Belgium and Holland.

"Not far off is the house, although the woods are between us;

But you have lingered so long, that while you were going and coming

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I have fought ten battles and sacked and demolished a city.

Come, sit down, and in order relate to me all that has happened."

Then John Alden spake, and related the wondrous adventure

From beginning to end, minutely, just as it happened;

How he had seen Priscilla, and how he had sped in

his courtship,

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Only smoothing a little, and softening down her re

fusal.

But when he came at length to the words Priscilla had spoken,

Words so tender and cruel, "Why don't you speak for yourself, John?"

Up leaped the Captain of Plymouth, and stamped on the floor, till his armor

Clanged on the wall, where it hung, with a sound of

sinister omen.

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All his pent-up wrath burst forth in a sudden explosion,

E'en as a hand-grenade, that scatters destruction around it.

Wildly he shouted, and loud: "John Alden! you have betrayed me!

Me, Miles Standish, your friend! have supplanted, defrauded, betrayed me!

One of my ancestors ran his sword through the heart of Wat Tyler;

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Who shall prevent me from running my own through

the heart of a traitor?

Yours is the greater treason, for yours is a treason to friendship!

You, who lived under my roof, whom I cherished and loved as a brother;

You, who have fed at my board, and drunk at my cup, to whose keeping

I have intrusted my honor, my thoughts the most sacred and secret,

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You too, Brutus! ah, woe to the name of friendship

hereafter!

Brutus was Cæsar's friend, and you were mine, but henceforward

415 Wat Tyler: the famous rebel in the early part of the reign of Richard II. It is stated that after Wat was struck from his horse in the presence of the king, a squire of Richard's, a "certain John Standysshe," slew him with his sword, and for this was knighted.

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