That afternoon seemed all a hazy dream. With a feeling that he must be some one else, Miles watched the men make ready the shallop, saw it go dipping across the gray harbor, and lie to beside the great ship. He saw the first boatload of the newcomers pull in to the landing rock, and he gazed shyly and yet gladly at the faces of the men and women who were to be his townsfolk. Elder Brewster's grown up son came with them, and there were many other young men, and a few older, and several women, but there were very few children among them.
At last, however, Miles and Jack found among the newcomers a boy but little older than themselves, so at once they made up to him and found that his name was Thomas Cushman. And because he had looked on ships and sea till he was weary of them, they led him away from the harbor, and showed him the spring and the Fort Hill, and laughed at him because he was so certain he should see an Indian at each turning, and Miles bragged to him mightily of his experiences among the savages of the Cape.
It was near dusk when they came down again through the village, where the last boatload from the ship had just landed. The street seemed fairly thronged with folk, and out to sea a light sparkled on the quarter-deck of the Fortune, just as it used to shine upon the Mayflower.
Feeling secure and happy, Miles bade his new friend Thomas good night, and walked home to his supper. "Bring firewood; we've many people to eat with us to-night," Constance called to him from the doorway, so he trudged on to the woodpile, where he picked out a good armful of the piny logs, to make a brave blaze for the friends who had come from England.
His face, as he worked, was toward the west, where showed a smear of red, which the sun, struggling forth just ere his setting, had left behind. Miles gazed on the gay fleck, that yet was lonely in the wide sky, till a step near at hand startled him, and, turning, he faced Master Hopkins.
"Lay aside that wood, Miles; I have to speak with you," his guardian greeted him; and Miles dropped the wood and wondered what he had done wrong. "Pray you, sir, John Alden told me I might take that fowling piece," he offered his excuses.
"Am I always so severe that you look for naught but chiding from me, Miles?" Master Hopkins said sternly, yet with something half wistful in his tone. "I would but say to you that Captain Standish has long urged me to let you be one of his household, and I have as long withstood him. For all he is a brave gentleman, he is not of the faith in which your father lived. But he has urged me strongly this day, and you, too, Miles, you bore yourself fairly this morning; you have tried to bear yourself well these last weeks, I can see. 'Tis possible that you will not suffer Miles Standish to spoil you with lax discipline, and in matters of faith you cannot go very far astray in this colony. So I think it safe now to leave this matter to your own decision. You may stay in my house, or go unto the Captain."
Miles breathed quickly and cracked a bit of bark between his fingers. "Am I to decide now, sir?" he asked.
"Yes, now. There is a kinsman of Mistress Hopkins's come on the Fortune who will take your place in my household if you go. But you need not go for that. As long as I have a house, there is a place for you therein, if you elect to stay."
It seemed an easy thing to say, he knew what he desired, yet when Master Hopkins stood looking gravely down at him and waiting for his answer, Miles found it hard to give. "I—I— You've been good to me, after all, sir," he faltered. "I'm sorry I've vexed you so many times. I—"