“Husband, son!” she cried joyfully.  “Nancy!—­awake child!—­it is thy father and brother!” and in another moment the door flew open, and Nancy and her mother flung their arms about the necks of the wanderers.  When the horse had been cared for, they went into the cabin.  Nancy raked the coals from the ashes, the fire blazed up, and the Goodwife gave them each a drink of hot milk.  Zeb blinked sleepily at the reunited and happy family, as Dan and his father told their adventures, and when at last they had gone to their beds in the loft he sank down on a husk mattress which the Goodwife had spread for him on the floor, and in two minutes was sound asleep.

[Illustration]

V

THE NEW HOME

Goodman Pepperell and his wife rose early the next morning, and, leaving the two children still sleeping; crept down the ladder to the floor below.  There lay Zeb, also sound asleep, with his toes toward the ashes like a little black Cinderella.  The Goodwife’s mother heart was stirred with pity as she looked down at him.  Perhaps she imagined her own boy a captive in a strange land, unable to speak the language, with no future but slavery and no friends to comfort his loneliness.

“Poor lad—­let him sleep a bit, too,” she said to her husband.

They unbolted the door and stepped out into the sunlight of a perfect June morning.  The dew was still on the grass; robins and bobolinks were singing merrily in the young apple trees, which, owing to a late, cold spring, were still in bloom, and the air hummed with the music of bees’ wings.

The Goodman drew a deep breath as he gazed at the beauty about him.  “’T is good to be at home again,” he said to his wife.  “And ’t is a goodly land—­aye, better even than old England!  There ’s space here, room enough to grow.”  He looked across the river to the hills of Boston town.  “I doubt not we shall live to see a city in place of yon village,” he said; “more ships seek its port daily, and there are settlements along the whole length of the bay.  ’T is a marvel where the people come from.  The Plymouth folk are scattering to the north and south, and already villages are springing up between Plymouth and New Amsterdam.  God hath prospered us, wife.”

“Praise be to his holy name,” said the Goodwife, reverently.  “But, husband,” she added, “what shall we do with our increase?  Thou hast brought home a horse and the black lad.  The horse can stay out of doors during the summer, but there is not room for him in the cow-shed, and the lad cannot sleep always before the fire.”

“I have thought of that,” said the Goodman, “and when the crops are in I purpose to build a larger house.”

“Verily it will be needed,” she answered.  “The crops grow like weeds in this new soil.  If there were but a place for storage, I could put away much for winter use that now is wasted.  Go thou and look at the garden, while I uncover the coals and set the kettle to boil.”