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Updated: June 5, 2025
"You have now the truthful story of my woe," he said, brokenly, "are you still willing to help me?" The question brought Elersley back from his wanderings. "Do you tell me truthfully that this is the villany of the boy we pampered so at school?" "That is the story of Vivian Standish's cowardly conduct," said Bencroft, in a tone of deep resentment.
To a very few time-worn and venerated relics such as Brewster's chair and one or more books, Myles Standish's Plymouth sword, the Peregrine White cradle, Winslow's pewter, and one or two of Bradford's books a strong probability attaches that they were in veritate, as traditionally avowed, part of the MAY-FLOWER'S freight, but of even these the fact cannot be proven beyond the possibility of a doubt.
The sight of the open door leading to freedom was too much for the youth's stolidity. Twisting suddenly, he drove his yellow teeth deep into the fleshy part of Standish's hand. While Standish nursed his sorely-bitten hand, Brice watched the lad's lightning progress across the lawn.
For a moment Bradford frowned, but as he caught the gay glint of Standish's eyes his own softened, and after a brief pause he answered temperately, "We will force no man's conscience. Tell Robert Hicks and the rest that I excuse them until they be better informed."
The cause of this favorable decision on the part of Wattawamat was the report that Coubitant had just sent him of the insignificant force of the English, which that crafty and swift-footed warrior had contrived to ascertain, by running round the border of the weed to the place where Standish's men were at work, and taking an accurate and unobserved survey of their numbers.
Standish's face contorted in momentary passion, then with a sigh and a gesture of utter despair he submitted himself to be led away by Mendoza and Garcilaso. Myra, her face tense and white, took an involuntary step forward, and instantly Don Carlos's hand closed on her arm.
He'll come for them to-night .... He'll be too late." Working, as he cast the fragmentary sentences over his shoulder, Gavin nevertheless glanced often enough at Standish's face to make certain from its foolishly dismayed expression that each of his conjectures was correct. Now, finishing his task, he demanded: "Your servants? Are they all right? Can you trust them? Your house servants, I mean."
Far away I could hear the sound of the advancing beaters the cries of the boys, the occasional barking of a dog, and the shrill piping of the headkeeper's whistle. Suddenly three birds swung into view round the face of the hill, and made straight for the line of butts. They were just below me, nearer to Standish's butt than mine, but I put up my gun and picked off the nearest.
He dropped the paper as if it had been a thing unclean, and his hands clenched until his knuckles snapped in the stillness of the room, as he slowly faced the window through which a few moments ago he had looked in the direction of Mary Standish's cabin.
"When will they have Captain Myles Standish's statue up?" asked Eunice, with her mouth full of caramels, as they passed Captain's Hill. "Very soon, I believe, now. The pedestal is nearly done, and the statue is already there." "Yes, I know," nodded Cricket. "We walked over there one day last week. Hilda, the statue is there waiting, and it's all boxed up like a chicken-coop.
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