self, and one to pass on to his neighbor, and after that"—
"M-o-o-o!" broke in a voice close behind, and, with a start, the conspirators faced round to meet "the great red cow," recently arrived in the Charity, and, with her, the comely but scoffing face of Priscilla Alden.
"I cry your pardon, gentlemen, if I have disturbed a secret conclave, but as my babes have a share of this cow's milk, I like her not to feed among the graves. All sorts of unclean creatures lurk here, and I fear lest the poor beast find contamination."
"A saucy wench, and one that would well grace the ducking-stool," growled Oldhame as Priscilla drove her cow away; while Lyford, remembering that she had that morning brought his wife a delicate breakfast, laughed uneasily and made no reply.
The governor's boat meanwhile, merrily driven by the "white-ash breeze" of four stalwart oars, had reached the ship's side, signaling, as she passed, the colony's pinnace, which, under easy sail, lay off and on the anchorage of the Charity.
"Good-morrow, Governor. You are welcome aboard, Master Winslow," cried the hearty voice of William Pierce, master of the Charity, and friend of the Pilgrims, as the passengers came aboard; and then, as if their errand were one needing no explanation, he led the way at once to his own cabin, fastened the door, and from a small locker at the foot of the bed-place took a packet of letters enveloped in oilskin. Laying these upon the little table and still resting his hand upon them, the honest mariner looked steadily in the faces of his visitors.
"Master Bradford, you are the governor of this
