savage, male and female, adult and childish,
that filled the dreamy air.

The oysters in their scallop shells were a singular success, and so were
the mighty venison pasties, and the savory stew compounded of all that
flies the air, and all that flies the hunter in Plymouth woods, no
longer flying now but swimming in a glorious broth cunningly seasoned by
Priscilla's anxious hand, and thick bestead with dumplings of barley
flour, light, toothsome, and satisfying. Beside these were roasts of
various kinds, and thin cakes of bread or manchets, and bowls of salad
set off with wreaths of autumn leaves laid around them, and great
baskets of grapes, white and purple, and of the native plum, so
delicious when fully ripe in its three colors of black, white, and red.
With these were plentiful flagons of ale, for already the housewives had
laid down the first brewing of the native brand, and had moreover
learned of the Indians to concoct a beverage akin to what is now called
root beer, well flavored with sassafras, of which the Pilgrims had been
glad to find good store since it brought a great price in the English
market.

It was during the last half hour of this feast that Desire Minter, who
with the other girls served the tables where the men sat at meat, placed
a little silver cup at Captain Standish's right hand saying,--

"Priscilla sends you some shrub, kind sir, of her own composition, and
prays you drink her health."

"Why, then, 't is kind of her who hath been most unkind of late,"
returned Myles, upon whose seasoned brain the constant potations of
three days had wrought to lull suspicion and reserve, and taking the cup
he tossed off its contents at a draught, and rising bowed toward
Priscilla who was flitting in and out among the tables. She returned the
salute with a little air of surprise, and Myles reseating himself turned
to question Desire again, but she had departed carrying the cup with
her.

"Nay, then, I'll be toyed with no longer," muttered the Captain angrily,
and although he bore his part in the closing ceremonies with which the
governor bade a cordial and even affectionate farewell to the king, the
prince, their nobles, and their following, there was a glint in his eye
and a set to his lips that would have told one who knew him well that
the spirit of the man was roused and not lightly to be laid to rest
again.

CHAPTER XXVII.

A LOVE PHILTRE.

The last pniese had made his uncouth obeisan