“Yes, Olivia. For Darien.” “Ah-h.” She turned white. Little as she liked Virginia, she knew it, she had proved it. The unknown was before her now, close at hand, shapeless yet, ill-defined, a spectral country. For a moment she stared blankly at Margaret with the eyes of a frightened animal. “Isn’t it. Isn’t it rather sudden?” she asked. “Yes. Rather sudden,” he answered in a hard voice. “But, of course, we may not go. You see, Stukeley. You see, Olivia. The summer fleet there may have letters for us. May have letters for us.” He groped about for an excuse. “My owners,” he went on. “My merchants may wish me to proceed at once. On the other hand, we may be told to trade at Charleston. Or trade rather longer here. Though we’ve done well here. It’s possible. You understand, Olivia. I told you the day we left Falmouth. Our whole aim was to have our work done before the summer fleet arrived. To buy up the tobacco crop before some of it is fully cured. And, to tell the truth, we’ve hurried all we could.” “Don’t worry, old girl,” said Stukeley, drawing his wife aside. “The sooner we go, the sooner we’ll be back.” “Oh, Tom. Don’t go. Don’t let us go.” “Oh, come, come,” he said, biting his lips. “It’ll be all right. Maggy. Come here, Maggy. If you meet a home-bound English ship on our way we may ask to be transhipped.” “Oh,” said Olivia; “then why not go ashore now, Tom? Why go on to Darien?” Stukeley muttered to himself about his folly. “Now we’re going all over it again,” he said to himself. “Remember, I’m pledged in honour, Livy,” he said. “Then, Charles, you’ll release him from his pledge, won’t you? Let him come ashore. I want to go home.” Margaret flushed, and then turned white. For a moment he wavered; she saw him waver. “You will, Charles. Won’t you?” “Olivia,” he answered. “I cannot. I’d like to. But he’s such a good Spanish scholar. He’s the only one of us who really knows Spanish. I’d grown to count on him. We all had.” “But you could get Spanish talkers here, Charles. Couldn’t he, Captain Cammock?” “No, ma’am. You couldn’t get gentlemen, Mrs. Stukeley. And you see the Dons is particular.” “Yet you sailed from London without a Spanish talker.” “Yes,” said Perrin. “But our plans were different then.” “How were they different then? I’m going to cross-examine you all.” “We decided to try to trade with some of the Spanish cities, Olivia; having so good an interpreter.” “I thought you were going to fight with the Spanish cities. That’s what we decided in council.” “My dear Livy,” said Stukeley. “You’re like a justice of the peace.” “But I want----” She checked herself sharply, and looked at the incoming ships. The men also turned to look, as she had planned that they should. “That’s a nice one, isn’t it, Captain Cammock?” “The Dutch-built one, Mrs. Stukeley? No.” “How do you know she’s Dutch-built?”