IX. A FAREWELL DINNER The shame and obloquy I leave thine own; Inherit those rewards; they’re fitter for thee. Your oil’s spent, and your snuff stinks: go out basely. _The False One._ Standing on the poop, looking seaward, the five cabin-dwellers watched the summer fleet come in. It came in haltingly, a scattered troop of ships, some with spars gone, one or two, fir-built, streaked white where a shot had struck; all seaworn. Cammock, watching them, sent his boat round to the “men of war” to order them aboard at once. Harthop had already been settled ashore, in charge of the tobacco, under the Governor’s eye. He would make good terms for the ship’s owners; the merchants at home could hardly lose on the venture. “We’re all right, sir,” said Cammock to Margaret. “There’s probably a letter. But the Governor’s your friend. You needn’t worry.” “I wish I could see things as you see them, captain,” said Margaret. “But I can’t. How is it you always have a plan? How do you discipline yourself? How is it you’re always ready?” “I dunno, sir. I’ve only got a few things to think of, and I think ’em out. P’r’aps that’s it. But just step aft, sir. Look here, sir. We’re ready to sail. The new topmast’s aloft. We’re a little light, perhaps, but nothing to hurt. The thing is--are you going to give him up? You got to decide now.” “I can’t. We must think of her child.” “She can’t have a child on the Isthmus.” “There’ll be time enough to arrange something else when we get there. But she must be spared the shock.” “Very good, sir. I’ll send the long-boat in for all the fresh meat and fruit there is.” “Oh, I know, captain. I know it’s not the rightest thing for her. A voyage to sea.” “She’ll get that anyway, sir. Either way. Very good, sir. I’ll have all ready to sail. I’ve sent for the ‘men of war.’ They’ll join us either here, or between the Points. Well, Mr. Perrin. We’re off to-night, sir.” “But we’re all dining with the Governor. You’ve surely not forgotten that, Charles.” “Look there, Edward. There’s the summer fleet.” “What if it is? We can’t throw the Governor over. We must dine with the Governor. What? You an Englishman and want not to dine with a lord?” “How about our friend there?” “No Englishman would arrest a guest at dinner. He values his digestion and his butler’s opinion too much. There’s no risk. Oh, we must go to the dinner. I’ve got a new American coat to go in.” “No harm in it, sir,” said Cammock. “It might divert the lady, poor thing.” “Yes,” said Margaret, sighing. “If it won’t tire her.” He crossed over to the Stukeleys. “Olivia,” he said, “Perrin has just reminded me that we’re dining to-night at the Governor’s. It won’t tire you?” “Tire me? Of course it won’t.” “You would like to go?” “We both want to go. Tom’s going to sing ‘Twankydillo.’ We may have enough ladies for a dance.” “We shall probably sail, directly we come aboard to-night.” “Sail, Charles? Not for Darien?”