“Let the lad be,” said the Goodwife at last.  “He ’s safe, praise God, and we shall just have to wait to find out how he managed to escape from the savages and make his way back here.”  She went to the secret closet and brought out a huge piece of pumpkin pie.  Zeb’s eyes gleamed as he seized it.  “He must n’t eat too much at once,” said she.  “As nearly as I can make out by the shells, he ’s had six eggs already.  That will do for a time.  Dan, build a fire in the fireplace in the old kitchen.  There ’s warm water in the kettle, and do thou see that Zeb takes a bath.  He is crusted with mud.  He must have wallowed in it.  Nancy and I will get dinner the while.”

Dan beckoned to Zeb, and the two boys disappeared.  Zeb had never bathed before except in the ocean, and the new process did not please him.  “I believe he wished he ’d stayed with the Indians,” said Dan when he appeared an hour later followed by a well-polished but somewhat embittered Zeb.  “I ’ve just about taken his skin off and I ’m all worn out.  Oh, Mother, is n’t dinner almost ready?”

“Almost,” said his mother, as she opened the oven door to take a peep at the turkey, which had been cooking since early morning.  “It only needs browning before the fire while I make the gravy.”

The table was already spread, and Nancy was at that very moment giving an extra polish to the tankard before placing it beside the Captain’s trencher.  The spiced drink to fill it was already mulling beside the fire with a huge kettle of vegetables steaming beside it.  The closet door was open, giving a tantalizing glimpse of glories to come.

“So there ’s where ye keep ’em,” observed the Captain, regarding the pies with open admiration. “’T is a sight to make a man thankful for the room in his hold.  By jolly, it ’ll take careful loading to stow this dinner away proper!”

He called Nancy to his side and opened the bulging leather pocket which hung from his belt.  “Feel in there,” he said.  “I brought along something to fill in the chinks.”

Nancy thrust in her hand, and brought it out filled with raisins.  “I got ’em off a ship just in from the Indies,” explained the Captain.  Raisins were a great luxury in the wilderness, and the delighted Nancy hastened to find a dish and to place them beside the pies.

“All ready,” said the mother at last.  “Come to dinner.”

There was no need of a second invitation, and the response to the summons looked like a stampede.  The Goodman and his wife took their places at the head of the table with the Captain on one side and the children on the other, and because it was Thanksgiving, and because he had had such a hard day and night, and most of all because he was so clean, Zeb was allowed a place at the foot of the board.

The Goodman asked a blessing and then heaped the trenchers high with what he called the bounty of the Lord.  There was only one cloud on Dan’s sunshine during the meal.  On account of Zeb, who when in doubt still faithfully imitated him, he was obliged to be an example all through the dinner.  Even with such a model to copy, Zeb had great trouble with his spoon and showed a regrettable tendency to feed himself with both hands at once.