"So that's why you ran away from me day before yesterday, is it?"
Miles kicked his heels softly against the legs of his stool. "Because I want to tell you I'm sorry," he murmured. "I shall never run away to the Indians again. I—I was but talking when I said those words unto Francis and the others."
"A 'miles gloriosus,' eh?" said the Captain, and smiled.
Miles saw nothing amusing in the words, but he took it as a sign the Captain was his friend again, so he smiled back. "I won't do it again, sir," he promised vaguely, and then, as Standish rose from the table, he slipped off his stool. "May I wash the dishes, sir?" he volunteered for "a girl's work" eagerly.
"If you wish it," the Captain answered, and then, about the time Miles had dropped the bowls and spoons into the nearest pail of water, broke out irrelevantly, "In the name of goodness, Miles, are those the only breeches you have to wear?"
Miles clapped his right hand over one knee, and his left over an ostentatious rift in the side. "She hasn't time to make me new ones; I'm wearing these for punishment," he explained.
"Indeed!" said Standish; he took his pipe from the chimneypiece and, filling it, kept silent so long that Miles finished his dishes and stole over to the hearth beside him. On the chimneypiece some books stood up from the miscellaneous litter, and, because they were the Captain's books, Miles raised himself on tiptoe to read their names. A "Bariffe's Artillery Guide" pleased him most; he was wondering if he could learn from that how to be a soldier like the Captain, when behind him spoke a familiar voice: "Well, Miley, do you have it in mind to sleep at home to-night?"
Miles swung round with a start; Master Hopkins and that bucket of water and the scolding to come,—he remembered all clearly, for there in the doorway stood Ned Lister, with his out of temper look. "The master sent me to find the boy," he explained more civilly to the Captain. "I've sought him all through the village. Come, Miles, Master Hopkins—"
Involuntarily Miles pressed close to the Captain. "Is he going to whip me, Ned?" he asked anxiously.
"Tell Master Hopkins I'll send the lad home straightway," Standish dismissed Lister curtly, then puffed a moment at his pipe till the young man's leisurely footsteps died out in the yard. "So Master Hopkins whips you often?" he questioned abruptly.