At that Miles tossed back his head, stiffly as if a bar of iron were run down his neck. "No, sir," he said, boldly and untruthfully.
He could not slip away now, whatever might be in store for him, but stood rigid and unpretending, while Captain Standish flung off his buff-coat, and Alden, with a ponderous movement, lifted the soup kettle to the table. Then he sat down on a stool, as he was bidden, and ate. It was clam broth, and he was aware of the good flavor of it, just as he was aware, beneath all his alarm, of the honorable fact that he was taking supper with Captain Standish. He began to hazard long looks at the Captain and to listen to the talk of the two men, with some thought for their words, as well as for his own concerns.
"This is none of your cooking, Jack," said Standish, as he rose to refill his bowl.
"Mistress Mullins fetched us the broth," Alden replied, with a studious lack of interest. "She thought we'd have naught to eat in the house to-night."
"'Twas very wisely thought. When you have eaten, Jack, best carry back her kettle. They'll not yet be abed at the Elder's house."
Somehow, after that, Alden made short work of his portion, and, summarily emptying the kettle into the Captain's bowl, gave it a perfunctory scrub and started briskly for Master Brewster's cottage.
The Captain, with his face sober all but his eyes, swallowed his broth in leisurely silence for a moment before he addressed his small companion: "I had speech with Priscilla Mullins several days since. What is this, Miles, that she tells me you had to say to me?"
Miles crumbled the fag end of his piece of bread with one nervous hand. "Why, 'twas--'twas--Captain Standish, is it true you think me the worst lad in the settlement?" He looked up into the other's face, and something he saw there made him blurt out, "I doubt if you do."
"So that's why you ran away from me day before yesterday, is it?"
Miles kicked his heels softly against the legs of his stool. "Because I want to tell you I'm sorry," he murmured. "I shall never run away to the Indians again. I--I was but talking when I said those words unto Francis and the others."
"A 'miles gloriosus,' eh?" said the Captain, and smiled.
Miles saw nothing amusing in the words, but he took it as a sign the Captain was his friend again, so he smiled back. "I won't do it again, sir," he promised vaguely, and then, as Standish rose from the table, he slipped off his stool. "May I wash the dishes, sir?" he volunteered for "a girl's work" eagerly.