ider view outspread at his feet. Climbing still
further to the platform of the Fort, he stood lost in reverie, his eyes
fixed upon the lonely Mayflower, sole occupant of the harbor, as she
clumsily rode at anchor tossing upon the flood tide.

"We shall miss the crazy craft when she is gone," said Standish
rejoining him.

"Ay. She is the last bit of Old England," replied Bradford, musingly.
For a few moments the two men stood intently gazing upon the vessel,
each heart busy with its own thoughts, then, as by a common impulse
turned, descending the side of the hill toward the lower spring, and
passed into the forest.

"What is thy matter for counsel, friend?" asked Bradford finding that
Standish strode on in what seemed gloomy silence.

"Yon ship."

"The Mayflower?"

"What other? She brought a hundred souls to these shores some six months
agone."

"Ay, and now we are fifty."

"Fifty alive, and fifty under the sea, or on yon headland where to-day
we level the mounds over their poor bodies and plant wheat to cheat the
salvages."

"'T is too true, good friend, and well I wot that the delight of thine
eyes lies buried there"--

"And thine beneath the waters of our first harbor," interrupted Standish
harshly, for the proud, tender heart could not bear even so light a
touch.

"Yes," replied Bradford briefly, and over his face passed a cloud
blotting out all the boyish enjoyment of scene and hour that had
enlivened its ordinarily thoughtful features. Was Dorothy May indeed the
delight of his eyes and heart?

"Yes, we two men came hither husbands, and to-day we stand as widowers,
and 't is in that matter I seek counsel," exclaimed Standish suddenly
as he turned to face his friend. "Last night, Master Winslow standing
between the graves of his wife and mine, read me a lecture upon the duty
unwived men owe to the community. He says it is naught but selfishness
to let our private griefs rule our lives, that we are bound to seek new
mates and raise up children to carry on the work we have begun. Nor can
we doubt his own patriotism, or the honesty of his counsels, for already
he has spoken to the widow of William White, and his own wife but six
weeks under ground."

"Yes, I know--they will be wed shortly," replied Bradford a little
embarrassed. Standish eyed him keenly.

"And thou art of his mind, and mayhap thine own new mate is already
bespoken?" demanded he in angry surprise.

"Nay, Standish, thou 'rt not reas