But there Miles got the door open and scampered away. Trug came leaping at his heels, and, fast as if Mistress Hopkins were likely to pursue him, he ran till he reached the Captain's very dooryard, and was quite breathless when he opened the door.
Inside, the candles were lit, the meat was on the table, and the Captain and Alden and four of the newcomers were making their supper and talking heartily the while. At the noise of the opening door they all faced about, and Miles felt shy and abashed. "If it like you, Captain Standish," he stammered, "Master Hopkins said I could come, so I came."
"And you are right welcome, Miles," Standish said quickly. "We looked for you to-night. Put down your bundle and come to the table. Let your dog come in, too."
Miles slipped into a cranny on the form between Alden and a black-haired young man named De la Noye. It was a roast duck they had for supper, and the men fed Trug right at table, and they talked a deal, of Indians and of hunting and of planting, and then, as the Captain and Alden guided the conversation, of the Parliament and of the Spanish influence and the war in the Palatinate, till, spite of the excitement of the evening, Miles's head nodded, and at heart he was glad when at length, long after the sober bedtime hour of Plymouth, the men cleared the table hastily and went to their rest.
The newcomers were bidden lie that night in the bedroom, since two of them still were weak with seasickness, but Alden and the Captain were to sleep in the living room, so Miles silently elected to stay with them, and he was glad when the chamber door closed behind the strangers.
"So you've a mind to share the floor with us, Miles?" the Captain asked, as he threw off his doublet.
"'Tis like a soldier to sleep where 'tis hard," Miles confessed shyly.
Standish smiled a little. "We'll surely make a fighting man of you, Miles, or you'll make one of yourself. 'Twas a pretty race you ran alone this morning, your friend Lister told me."
"Lister made a stout march of it, too," put in Alden, who had already rolled himself in his blanket and settled down on the floor.
"There's more mettle in that rapscallion than I judged," Standish answered thoughtfully, and then: "Lie you down, Miles. Eh? No blanket? Here, take my cloak; 'tis ample enough for you."