This was, indeed, the crucial point. Strict old Puritan that he was, despiser of ostentations, father already of that spirit of independence and Americanism being sown broadcast in New England, David Donner had already made many a wry face over the prospect of serving the colony by an expedient so bitter as he conceived this present task to be.
“I have debated this matter, since I had my first intimation of what to expect from Governor Winslow,” he said, pursing up his mouth as if he were about to swallow a brew of hoarhound. “I am not a young man myself. I may never return to this land. But—if it is the prompting of your wisdom to send me, I cannot refuse to serve this colony and these earnest, toiling people.”
Of the joy which his colleagues felt there was no sign apparent. For that matter, they would be as sad at losing Donner from their circle as they would be glad to send him on his mission. Their lives were made up of joyless duties, woven as a woof through a warp of joyless worship.
But among his hearers there was Wainsworth, and he was glad, not so much to have the severe old man going abroad, as to know that Mistress Garde Merrill would now in all probability remain permanently with John Soam and his wife, who were good-natured, affectionate people. Indeed Mrs. Soam was a natural woman, more delighted when she was fostering or encouraging a mating, ’twixt youthful hearts, than she was when kneading dough into loaves that looked like fat, dimpled babies, and this is saying more than might readily be supposed.
Thus when, soon after, the meeting had broken up and the Governors had stiffly departed, it was but natural that Henry should discover, innocently enough, that he had left a bundle of papers behind. It was quite as natural, also, that upon returning and purposely knocking at the door of the family living-room, whereas the papers should have been still in the parlor, he should be admitted by Goodwife Soam and asked in most cordially, and sent with Garde to look for the truant documents.
CHAPTER XI.
DANGEROUS TRIBUTES.
Eloquent as Wainsworth had proved himself, in the presence of Adam, he was but an indifferent love’s-man, now that he found himself alone with Garde.
“I wanted to come back for—for the papers,” he stammered.
“Yes,” said Garde, whose spirit of elfishness Henry always aroused, “they would soon have missed you sorely.”