Читать книгу Constance - Patricia Clapp - Страница 11

Оглавление

December 20, 1620

I was there and did not see it, but I should have! Even now, trying to write about it—I have put it off for days—my stomach gripes in knots of guilt and fright and sickness. It was the day after the men left in the shallop for that last trip, and since none of us knew how long they would be gone, there was usually a group standing at the rail, searching the sea for any trace of their returning. She was there, a little apart from us as always, her eyes searching too. I moved to speak to her.

“I doubt they would come back so soon, Mistress Bradford,” I said. “If this is to be their last trip, as they promised, they would look thoroughly for the proper place. It may take days.”

“It makes little difference what place they pick,” she murmured.

“But they must find good water, and a supply of trees, and a proper harbor—”

“Oh, yes, I know. Such things are necessary for those who will live here.”

“It will not be much longer now. When our location has been found they will start to build—a Common House first, Father says, and then houses for each family. Just think, soon you will be preparing for your son to join you! Does that not cheer you, Mistress Bradford?”

She was silent for a while, staring out at the sea with her gray eyes wide and brooding. Then she put her small icy hand on my arm.

“You are a good child, Constance,” she said in that soft, distant voice. “Strong, and brave, and good. Perhaps if I were more like you—” She stopped and pulled her cloak closer around her. “I have been cold so long. It never seemed to be this cold at home. If I could only be warm again—be warm, and sleep!”

She stood a few moments longer, while I tried to think of something to comfort the poor woman, but my tongue found no words. Then she smiled her bleak little smile.

“You will be all right, Constance,” she said. “You were made for a land like this. Excuse me, now. I think I shall . . . get out of the wind.”

She turned away and moved slowly along the deck to the leeward side. I watched her go—a small lonely figure. And that was all.

It was at least an hour later that we missed her. I think I knew, the moment we realized she was not among us. She was so slight. She would have slipped in with barely a splash.

I don’t know who told Will Bradford when the men returned five days later. He shut himself in the Great Cabin, and Giles, who listened at the door, said he never heard such silence. Hours later Will came out again, and joined the men who had been with him in the shallop.

It was then that they told us they have settled on the spot for our Colony, here where we have anchored. It is to be called Plymouth.

Constance

Подняться наверх