All the while, the Mayflower, blissfully unaware of the controversy she bore, sluggishly blundered on in her southward course. The Pilgrims were sadly disappointed to have to continue to sail in her. It was a grievous blow that caused many a heartfelt pang. How awful it was to turn away from the land! How it hurt! What frustration! How desponÂdent they were! They had grown so weary with the voyage and their gladsome anticipation of landfall had been so rudely and so quickly dashed. They were just plain and simple folk, honest and open. Harm and deception never entered their heads, but — here they were — cheated once again! It had been a mortal distress — it shocked and offended them — to realize that they had been so badly treated. It left them numb inside. Vague, gloomy, listless. They were a bewildered company, sadly dazed and dejected. A blank cloud hung over them. They stood about the deck of the Mayflower _ small desultory groups, mumbling to each other in apathetic low tones. Mumbling about nothing in particular. Mumbling to no one in particular. No one listened. No one bothered. No one cared. An air of languid dejection, mingled with confusion, covered them all.
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