Indeed, it was, and very brave and martial, too. Miles curled himself up in it, and liked the manly hardness of the floor beneath his shoulders. He closed his eyes and half dozed, then, hearing Alden's voice, roused up a little.
"Captain," the young man was speaking softly, "there's not an ounce of extra provisions in the Fortune."
From the neighboring corner where Standish had stretched himself came a non-committal "Um."
"And half these young fellows are equipped with nothing but the clothes they stand in; they gambled away their very cloaks, when the ship touched at Plymouth in Devonshire." There was silence in the living room for a time, before Alden resumed, "We had enough to do in the colony before, sir; now what shall we do with these?"
"Why, some we'll set to ploughing and some we'll set to fight the Indians," said Standish. "And those that will neither plough nor fight, we'll pack home to England. We've no use for idlers here."
Then again there was silence in the living room, and the embers in the fireplace gleamed red, and once, leaping into flame, set black shadows fluttering on the wall. "We've no use for idlers," Miles repeated to himself. "But I'll work as mother would wish me to, now I am in the Captain's house."
He drew the Captain's cloak closer about him, and thought to amuse himself with pretending he was a true soldier, like the Captain, sleeping in his military cloak out under the stars, but the reality pleased him better than the fancy. He lay with his eyes wide open, smiling at the embers. "The Captain's house," he repeated. "And I shall stay here always."
Transcriber's Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired. Author spells "rendezvous" as the archaic "randevous".