Master Hopkins looked angry, of course, but his face relaxed at sight of the Captain, and he only bade Miles pack off to bed. "But he'll surely thrash you in the morning, Miles," Giles said, with a sober pucker of the brows. "What made you stay so long?"
"I was with the Captain," Miles replied light-heartedly, and to himself he added, "And by and by 'twill be like this evening every day, for I'll live with him all the time."
CHAPTER XXII
THE BEARER OF TIDINGS
CAPTAIN STANDISH must have spoken to Master Hopkins of other matter than wounded Indians, for, to his surprise, Miles got no whipping next morning. "Since the Captain needed you, I cannot punish you for your delay," Master Hopkins said curtly, a remission which would have overwhelmed Miles, if it had not been surpassed by the joyous fact of Mistress Hopkins's bringing out an old suit of his father's that afternoon and starting to make him new clothes.
In duty bound Miles went forth, and, seeking Priscilla, thanked her awkwardly that she had spoken for him to the Captain. He wasn't seeking Francis Billington, he would have declared, but somehow he sauntered to the shore, where Francis was likely to be, and, true enough, there he was, paddling in the water by the landing rock.
Miles halted on the beach and resumed the talk where it had stopped at their last meeting. "Hm," he sniffed at his old enemy, "I take it, Captain Standish has other things to do than gossip about me to your father. You lied to me, Francis Billington, when you said he called me the worst boy in Plymouth, and I'm going to thrash you for that lie."
"I was but jesting," vowed Francis.
Miles, with his aggressive fists, smote the boy and rolled him in the sand. "I'm jesting too, now," he said grimly.