"Yes. The man that slighted my maid. He's dead and buried."
"And revenge of thought as well as deed is buried with him, Myles, is it not?"
"H—m! Now, that's a fight where I'm willing to cry craven. See you here, Will, the Lord that made me fashioned me out of mere mortal clay, and his work stands fast in spite of my good will or yours to change it. While I was a young fellow, I fought the Spaniards and the Turks; in my lustyhood, I fought the Indians and the wilderness; and now, in mine age, I fight Myles Standish and the devil; and though I've as good a stomach for hard knocks as most men, I feel betimes 't will not be a sorry thing to undo harness, hang up Gideon, and lay me down to rest and sleep."
"Not yet, old friend, not yet! We came on pilgrimage together, and we'11 march shoulder to shoulder into the holy city,—that is, if God will."
"If God will," echoed Standish, and as the merry throng poured out, they found the elders standing hand in hand and face to face, with the moonlight gleaming softly over them and glistening in their eyes.
