Dotey, to be sure, one morning when Miles forgot to fetch a supply of water, and he had to fetch it himself, threatened to "swinge" him; he was a steady fellow, was Dotey, and, since Giles was but a lad, in his master's absence was tacitly admitted to the headship of the household. But when he talked of beating Miles, up rose Ned, and called him, with an oath, a great bully, swaggering in his little ha'penny borrowed authority, and threatened, if he laid hands on the little fellow, to break his head for him.
It was in the living room this happened, just before the noon meal; Miles remembered afterward the good smell of the roast fish Mistress Hopkins was setting on the table, and what an overpowering heat came from the great fire on the hearth. He was standing near the fireplace, backed up against the wall, a little conscience-stricken and fearful of a whipping, but still more frightened by the vehemence of the two men. Lister had swaggered across the floor, and stood before him, and Miles was glad of his protection, though he half realized that it was not alone the desire to defend him, but the desire to defy Dotey, the trusted and sober, that spoke in Ned's tone.
Constance's quiet voice, as she stepped between the two young men, quelled the squabble: "Don't curse so, pray you, Ned. And, Ed Dotey, do not you whip Miles; he only forgot—"
"He does not merit whipping," spoke slow Giles, who held his own little resentment that his father's servant was set in authority over him.
Mistress Hopkins interrupted tartly that Miles needed a strong hand to correct him, and Dotey was quite in his right; her approval made it lawful enough for the young man to carry out his intention, but Dotey, like a discreet fellow, had no wish to bring about a scuffle with Lister and a hot family quarrel in his master's absence. So he said, as if it were a concession, that he would do as Constance asked, and let Miles off this time; and with that they all sat down peaceably to dinner. Miles ate his full share of the fish, and, believing this episode happily ended, put it quite out of his head.
He had good cause to remember it some ten days later. By then Master Hopkins had returned, so it was necessary for all to be busy, and Miles weeded in the corn-field till his back ached, and every evening read his chapter in the Bible. But one morning, a hot, dull morning with an overcast sky, Ned and Giles planned to go with Squanto to fish for perch in a pond far up in the woods, and Miles received a reward for his diligence of the last few days in a permission to go with them. Giles and the Indian started on ahead, to take the bait, while the two others stayed to make ready the extra tackle, which, being left to Ned's management, was always in a snarl.
Lister was sitting on the bench by the house-door, whistling a little, as he disentangled lines and adjusted hooks, and Miles, kneeling on the grass beside him, was giving what help he could, when Master Hopkins and Dotey came out of the cottage. Dotey, who had an axe on his shoulder, headed away through the garden to the hills whence firewood was fetched, but Master Hopkins came and stood over Ned.
How it went and exactly what was said, Miles scarcely comprehended, but he heard Master Hopkins's stern voice and Ned's sulky answering tones, and in the lulls the rattle of trenchers, as Constance, inside the house, cleared the breakfast table. The gist seemed to be that Master Hopkins had found out about Ned's threatening to break Edward Dotey's head, for he rated him soundly that he durst lift his voice against one set in authority over him, a sober man, who was his better—