It all must have taken a long, long time, but still the women screamed, and the heavy footsteps had only just reached the door. The latch rattled beneath a rough hand, the light streamed into the cabin, and Miles dropped back against the bunk, with his arm up to shut out the glare of the lanterns,[16] and the sight, too, of the angry faces in the doorway. "Francis, Francis," he found himself saying, in a poor whisper that he realized was not meant for Francis Billington's ears, "we must 'a' killed some one." [16] [17] [17] CHAPTER II THE NAME OF MILES But the grasp on his neck—it was big John Alden, the cooper from Southampton, who had dragged him out into the great cabin—was real, and so, he now found, were the faces of the men who confronted him. The Elder, William Brewster, with his gray hair, and grave Governor Carver, he noted among them, with a hopeless feeling that[18] all the majesty of the company was come thither to judge him. Close by, he heard Francis Billington crying, with tearful sobs, not dry howls alone, but Miles dropped his shamed eyes to the floor of the cabin and did not look at his companion. He heard Goodman Billington's rough voice, thick with abuse and threats against his son, and then he heard the Elder cut him short: "Peace now, friend. Maybe the lad is hurt." [18] Just then, from within the Billingtons' cabin, whence a light smoke still drifted, spoke a quick, deep voice: "Come you in and lend a hand, Alden. There is work for two needs despatch. The floor here is over shoe thick with powder." "Ay, Captain Standish," the young man answered promptly, and loosed his hold on Miles's collar. There was a little movement in the group of men, and Master Stephen Hopkins, stepping closer to the cabin door, peered in and spoke solemnly: "A full keg of powder broke open! 'Tis by the mercy of Heaven alone the ship was not blown into atoms." "I did not have it in mind to blow up the ship," Miles faltered, raising his eyes. "I did but touch off a squib—because it would burn bravely." There the words choked in his throat, for, a little back from the other men, he caught sight of his[19] father, and Goodman Rigdale's arms were folded, his heavy brows drawn close together, and his lips, beneath his beard, set in a way Miles knew of old. "I did not mean it," he repeated huskily, and, gazing at
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