The Children's Longfellow Part 3

"No prayers or entreaties can dissuade her."

"Strange, indeed. Have you thought well over it?" asked Lucifer, turning to Elsie.

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"I do not come here to argue, but to die," replied Elsie. "Your business is not to question but to kill me, and I am ready."

With a last farewell to Prince Henry and her weeping attendants, Elsie followed Lucifer into a gloomy building. The Prince tried to follow them, but Lucifer thrust him back and barred the door. Suddenly the Prince's better angel prevailed and he realized what a vile thing it was that he should purchase health and strength at such a cost. Sooner would he himself die a lingering death than that harm should come to Elsie, who had grown so dear to him during their long journey together.

Shouting to his men to aid him, he burst open the door and rushed in to save her.

A few weeks later, Dame Ursula was sitting in her cottage spinning and thinking sadly of her child's untimely death, when a forester stopped at the farm and inquired for Gottlieb.

"I am his wife," said the dame.

"Then I have news for you. The Prince is strong and well again."

"Then Elsie, my poor child, is dead," she rejoined, mournfully.

"It is true that your daughter is no longer the humble peasant she once was."

"Nay, do not mock a mother's agony, and tell me truly what has befallen my child," she implored.

Then the forester told Ursula his wonderful news; how at Salerno the Prince's n.o.bler self had prevailed, and the maiden's life had been spared, whereupon a miracle had been worked on the Prince and he had straightway been healed.

"They call your daughter the Lady Alicia now," continued the messenger, "for the Prince made a vow in Salerno that he would wed no one but Elsie. At this very moment the Prince and his bride are sailing homeward down the Rhine in a splendid barge decked with banners, and all the people are gathered on the banks, shouting with joy."

Dame Ursula's raptures can be better imagined than described, and she rushed away to tell her husband the glad tidings, while the forester calmly sat down and helped himself to Gottlieb's supper.

And so we may leave the Prince and his young bride with the feeling that their wedded life proved to be a very happy one, for their love had been tried by pain and suffering, and a love which can conquer these is one which will endure.

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THE COURTs.h.i.+P OF _MILES STANDISH_

In olden days, a s.h.i.+p called the _Mayflower_ left the sh.o.r.es of England and set sail for a distant and unknown land, carrying a number of Puritan pilgrims on board. Among their number were two men who were close friends, though they were utterly different both in character and looks. Miles Standish was a short, strongly built man with muscles and sinews like iron; his reddish beard was already flaked with patches of white and his face browned from his out-of-door life. Hasty and pa.s.sionate, Miles Standish was, nevertheless, a born leader of men, and was greatly respected by all who knew him. His friend, John Alden, was a much younger man, with fair hair and blue eyes. He was no soldier, but skilled in all manual labor, and, moreover, a scholar and a scribe.

The two friends settled in the village of Plymouth, and Miles Standish soon distinguished himself by his warlike qualities and was made captain of the town, while John Alden, who lived with him, acted as his secretary and household companion.

One day they were sitting together, Miles reading about Caesar's great victories, and John occupied in writing letters to his people at home, filled mostly with accounts of the beautiful Puritan maiden, Priscilla.

Presently Miles Standish looked up from his reading and said to John: "When you have finished writing I have something important to tell you."

"I am ready to listen," cheerfully replied the young man.

"Since Rose Standish died years ago," said the Captain, "my life has been a very dreary one. In my hours of loneliness I have often thought of the maiden, Priscilla, who is as friendless as I am. She is quite alone in the world, for her mother, father, and brother all died in the winter. I have never dared speak my thoughts to her, but I want you to do so for me. Go to Priscilla and tell her that a blunt old captain, readier at action than words, loves her dearly. You are a scholar and can speak to her in tender words such as are best suited to win the heart of a maiden."

Bewildered and dismayed at his friend's request, John replied: "Indeed I cannot give such a message as this. If you would have a thing well done you must do it yourself, not leave it to others--these are your own words."

The Captain gravely shook his head. "I cannot, indeed," said he. "I can march up to a fortress and summon the place to surrender, but I dare not face a woman with such a proposal. Surely you will not refuse to do what I ask in the name of our friends.h.i.+p."

John Alden felt he could no longer withstand the Captain's earnest request, so he reluctantly consented and went forth on his errand. His way led him through the woods, where he gathered some may-flowers as a gift for Priscilla. When he drew near Priscilla's home he found her spinning industriously and singing as she worked. As John entered, she rose and held out her hand to him, saying: "I knew it was you when I heard your step in the pa.s.sage; I was thinking of you as I sat there spinning and singing."

John was so pleased that she should have been thinking of him that he could frame no reply, but held out the flowers to her in silent answer.

Then they sat down and talked of their friends at home and of the _Mayflower_, which was to return to England the next day. Priscilla confessed she felt so lonely and wretched that she wished she could return to England too, and John answered: "I cannot blame you for that wish. A woman requires someone stronger than herself to lean on, so I have come to you now with an offer of marriage from a good and true man, Miles Standish, the Captain of Plymouth."

Not even the Captain himself could have spoken more bluntly than did John, and Priscilla looked at him in amazement. At length she exclaimed: "If the great Captain of Plymouth is so very eager to wed me, why does he not come himself and take the trouble to woo me?"

Poor John tried to smooth matters over. Quite forgetful of himself, he pleaded the Captain's cause, said how kindly, generous, and brave he was, what a splendid soldier and leader, and added that any woman might be proud to be called the wife of Miles Standish. But all his eloquence was wasted, for the maiden only looked at him and said smilingly: "Why don't you speak for yourself, John?"

Here was a pretty pa.s.s for an honest man to be in! Joyful to think that Priscilla loved him and yet saddened for his friend's sake, John left the house and wandered down to the seash.o.r.e, undecided what he ought to do in the matter. Suddenly he looked up and saw the shadowy form of the _Mayflower_ riding at anchor, ready to set sail on the morrow, and he made up his mind that it was his duty to return to England on the s.h.i.+p.

Strong in his resolution, he returned home and related to the Captain all that had happened. But when he came to the words Priscilla had spoken, the Captain stamped on the floor and shouted, angrily: "John Alden, you have betrayed me! We are no longer friends, and there can be nothing between us henceforth but war and hatred!"

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In the midst of his angry words a man came in bringing a message of urgent importance. There were rumors of danger, threats of war from hostile Indian tribes, and the Captain was summoned to a council meeting.

Still enraged, the Captain hastened away to the council and found it already a.s.sembled and impatiently waiting his coming. A ferocious-looking Indian was standing by a table on which lay a rattlesnake's skin filled with arrows; this was the Indians' signal of warfare. The council was debating whether it would be better to reply to the challenge or try peaceful measures, but Miles Standish settled the matter without more ado. Advancing to the table, he picked up the rattlesnake's skin, and with a gesture of contempt jerked the Indian arrows from it. Then he filled the skin to the brim with powder and bullets and handed it back to the Indian, saying in a tone of thunder:

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"Here, take it! This is your answer!" The savage took the challenge in silence, glided from the room, and soon disappeared into the recesses of the forest.

Miles Standish returned late from the council and threw himself, dressed as he was, on his pallet, so that he might be ready to set out at any moment. John Alden was lying awake, but he was resentful at the Captain's angry words to him and pretended to be asleep. At earliest dawn Standish awoke and, taking his musket, strode from the room. John Alden yearned to bid his friend farewell, but his pride would not let him, and he beheld the Captain depart in anger and spoke no word.

Then he arose, made his own preparations, and went down to the sh.o.r.e. A boat was waiting to convey him to the s.h.i.+p, but, as he was already standing with one foot on the gunwale, he caught sight of Priscilla looking at him with a sad and reproachful gaze.

At once his purpose changed. He determined that he would not go away, but would remain and protect her. The captain of the s.h.i.+p bade farewell to his friends and pushed off his boat. Not one of all who had set out in the _Mayflower_ returned with her. The pilgrims wished the captain and his men G.o.dspeed and went back to their life of toil in the new world.

As John turned to depart, Priscilla stood beside him and they spoke together long and earnestly. She gently reproached John for pleading the cause of another. "I was hurt that you should urge me to marry Captain Miles Standish, even though he is your friend. I must tell you the truth; your friends.h.i.+p is more to me than all the love he could offer."

Said John: "Of all your friends, let me be the nearest and dearest, and I promise that I will be true and faithful to you always."

He would not say more than this, for, although he longed to tell Priscilla of his love for her, he had vowed not to do so. Loyalty to his absent friend forbade him and he thought to himself: "I will not speak to Priscilla of this until there is no longer any anger betwixt Miles Standish and myself."

Meanwhile, Miles Standish was marching steadily northward with a small troop of soldiers led by their brave Indian guide, Hobomok. After a three days' march they reached an Indian encampment and saw the women at work by the tents and the warriors sitting round the fire in full war-paint.

When the Indians saw the white men approaching, two of the mightiest warriors sprang up and came to parley with Standish, offering him a present of furs. Then they spoke through the Indian interpreter, begging the soldiers for muskets and powder, but when Standish refused and said he would give them a Bible instead, they changed their tone and began to boast and bl.u.s.ter.

One of the chiefs cried: "Is this the mighty Captain the white men have sent to destroy us? He is a little man, let him go and work with the women!" Standish looked keenly round him and became aware of shadowy forms of Indians creeping round the bushes in ambush, but he feigned not to see them and stood his ground undaunted, listening calmly to the interpreter's words. But when the Indian chief began to taunt him, his hot blood rose within him, and, s.n.a.t.c.hing the boaster's knife from him, he stabbed him to the heart. A flight of arrows immediately poured on the little band from all sides, but they replied with deadly fire from their guns and after a fierce fight the first victory lay with the white men.

Month after month pa.s.sed by and Miles Standish continued to scour the land with his forces till his name became a terror to all the hostile Indian tribes. In the little village of Plymouth the time pa.s.sed peacefully on. John Alden built himself a new house, dug a well, and planted an orchard hard by. As he worked he thought ever of Priscilla and knew that his happiness would not be complete until he might venture to ask her to share the fruits of his toil.

One day he was sitting with the maiden, awkwardly holding a skein of yarn for her to wind, when a messenger arrived in frantic haste bringing terrible news from the village. Miles Standish was dead, shot down by a poisoned arrow as he was leading his men to battle. Remorseful and yet glad that nothing now stood between him and the fulfillment of his hopes, John Alden turned to Priscilla and won her ready consent to become his bride.