ands, my honored mistress and dear lady, that I will so deal
with this maid as shall most pleasure you."

And so John Howland and Desire Minter were formally betrothed; and
before the month of May was gone the wheat upon the hill-side was again
disturbed as John Carver's wife came to lay herself down to rest close
beside him in sweet content.

"They tell of broken hearts," said Surgeon Fuller musing above that
double grave; "and were I asked to name Dame Katharine's complaint I
know no name for it but that."

CHAPTER XXI.

AN AFFAIR OF HONOR.

"Thou liest foully, Edward Dotey! Thou liest even as Ananias and
Sapphira lied."

"Liest, thou son of Belial! 'T is thou that liest, and art a cock-a-hoop
braggart into the bargain, Master Edward Lister! Tell me that our
master's daughter gave thee that kerchief"--

"If thou couldst read, I'd show thee 'Constance Hopkins' fairly wrought
upon it by the young mistress's own hand."

"Then thou stolest it, and I will straight to our master and tell him
on 't!"

"Hi, hi, my springalds! what meaneth all this vaporing and noise? What's
amiss, Lister?"

"It matters not what's amiss John Billington. Pass on and attend to
thine own affairs."

"Lister's afraid to tell that he carrieth stolen goods in his doublet
and lies about them into the bargain," sneered Edward Dotey.

"I lie do I, thou base-born coward! Lie thou there, then!"

And Edward Lister with one generous buffet stretched his opponent upon
the pile of firewood they had been hewing a little way from the town.

Billington who had wandered in that direction with his gun upon his
shoulder looking for game, helped the fallen man to his feet and
officiously fingered a bruise rising upon his cheek.

"Hi! Hi! But here's a coil! He's wounded thee sorely, Dotey! I'm witness
that he assaulted thee, with intent to kill like enough. Canst stand?"

"Let me go, let me at him, leave go of my arm John Billington! I'll soon
show thee"--

"Nay Ned," interposed Lister, as Billington with a malignant grin upon
his face half hindered, half permitted Dotey's struggles to free himself
from the poacher's sinewy arms. "Nay, man, I meant not to draw e'en so
much blood as trickles down thy cheek"--

"He meant to draw it by the bucketful and not in drops," interpreted
Billington. "And now he tries to crawl off. Take thy knife to him, man;
nay, get ye both your swords and hack away at each other until we see
which is the better