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Updated: June 20, 2025
"Bring back yourself, Roger, and I shall be more than content," she replied. In another minute they were gone, Diggory Beggs taking his hat and starting with them; telling his wife that he should not return until morning, as he should go on board the Swan with them, and remain until she sailed. "You will not go before daybreak, Cousin Reuben?" Mistress Mercy asked.
A desperate anxiety to evade this fate set his soul cowering in its fatal mask of clay. This, he realized, was unadulterated, childish fear, and he angrily aroused himself from its stifling influence. Meta Beggs would be back soon; she would require an answer to her resolve ... all or nothing. The heat, chilled by the night and loneliness, faded a little from his blood.
More circulars would be given out the next afternoon, and another attempt to speak would be made that evening. All this was duly impressed upon the boy, and then the little company set forth. Dr. Barton walked on one side of him, and Everley on the other; Mrs. Barton, Mrs. Stedman and Sophie came next, and Beggs and Lippman brought up the rear.
The butler, a white jacket taking the place of the conventional somber black, poured four cocktails from a silver mixer and placed four dishes of shaved ice, lemon rosettes and minute pinkish clams before August Turnbull, Morice and his wife, and Miss Beggs, occupying in solitude a side of the table. Then he set at Mrs.
"Shadow Hamilton for one, and perhaps Buster Beggs and Luke Watson. I asked some of the other fellows, but they had other engagements. Old John went down to the post-office for letters a while ago. Maybe he'll bring news." "Here he comes now," cried Dave, as he saw a colored man-of-all-work coming along the road that ran in front of the Morr estate. "And he's got a bundle of letters."
"Well, well, Roger," Mistress Beggs went on, "it is marvelous to see how fast you grow! Why, it is scarce six months since you sailed away, and you seem half a head taller than you were when you went! And so the Swan has returned safely, without damage or peril?"
But for the friendship of Cacama he would himself, assuredly, have been a victim to these sanguinary gods. He and his father had like the Beggs, and many other of his friends at Plymouth been secretly followers of Wycliffe, but they were still Catholics. They believed that there were many and deep abuses in the Church, but had no thought of abandoning it altogether.
"Just like Miss Beggs," Billie was conscious of thinking. "Well, let's go up," urged Laura, as Billie showed no inclination to move. "We might as well get the agony over with." "All right, come on," cried Billie, running ahead of them and taking two steps at a time. "As Dad says: 'A coward dies a thousand deaths, the brave man only one."
For that night established values, life-long habits, negations, prudence, were set at naught. Gordon wondered whether Meta Beggs would be there? He would like to be with her at a sap-boiling, in the sooty shadows. With the necklace of seed pearls in his pocket he walked over the street revolving in his mind the problem of asking her to accompany him.
Sitting with his chair canted against that dingy wooden façade he thought of the school-teacher and the coming night. It was late afternoon of the day on which he had bought the necklace. The small package still rested in his pocket. It had been his intention to give the pearls to Meta Beggs before he returned to his home, but no opportunity had offered.
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