“Ah, yes,” said Margaret. “It’s interesting to put a Hollar beside the real thing. No artist can make a ship wonderful to us. A ship is a wonderful work of art without him. Just look at them there, Olivia.” “They’re beautiful,” she said, looking at the ships. “Why. The _Broken Heart’s_ under sail.” “Her topsails are on the caps. Ready for us to go.” “In case we do go?” “Yes. In case.” Olivia looked at him steadily, noting that, for all his self-control, he seemed uneasy at her look. The situation was saved by the entrance of an orderly, in the white coat and blue scarf of the Virginia troop. He saluted. “The Governor presents ’s compliments ’n’ ’ll join you d’rec’ly.” “Thank you,” said Margaret. “I suppose the mails have arrived? Do you know?” “Yes, sir,” said the man, as he stood in the doorway. “In the summer fleet, sir.” “Thank you.” “What have you got there, Tom?” said Olivia. “A little pretty pistol,” he said. “Nice silver chasing,” said Perrin. “Spanish,” said Margaret. “They make those at Toledo.” “Let me see,” said Olivia. “Yes. Spanish,” said Stukeley. “Wheel-lock. Loaded. Priming-cup lidded. A very nice little gun. See the Spanish motto?” “What does the Spanish mean?” asked Olivia. “_Se nada, pero._ I can’t read it.” “It means, ‘I know nothing. But I talk well.’ I wonder if I’ve forgotten my pistol shooting. Eh? I used to be able to nail the ace of diamonds at a dozen yards. Let’s make Pilly back up against the wall, and do the William Tell act.” “Tom, dear. Don’t play with that. It’s loaded. You might hurt somebody.” “Yes. Put it down, Stukeley,” said Margaret. “It’s one of old Howard’s treasures. Put it down.” “Put it down?” said Stukeley. “You’ve got a nerve to tell me to put it down. I want this little gun. I like it. I’m going to bag it. If anybody interferes with me at dinner, Livy, I shall just plug him. Pop. In between the eyes. You see if I don’t.” He slipped the pistol into his pocket. Margaret smiled to see Olivia’s face of horror. “Why,” said Stukeley. “Why, Livy, that’s what they do in this country. What are old what’s-his-name’s swords like? Look here, for a sword. Eh? There’s a temper. Look here. See?” “That’s a fine piece of steel,” said Margaret. “Is it Milanese?” “Milanese? Milanese? Milanese in your eye. Are you touched? It’s Spanish. Comes from a place called Toledo, if you’ve ever heard of it. Spanish motto like the other. Old Howard must collect Spanish things.” “What is the motto?” Olivia asked. “_No me saques sin razon_: well. Do not draw me without reason. Unless he spits in your face, for instance. _No me envaines sin honor_: Nor sheathe me till. Well. Till you’ve made sure.” “Made sure?” “Seen that the other fellow’s juice is pink. Stand still, Maggy, till I see if you’ve got red blood in you. I could prod you from here just under your fourth rib. Ping. Eh? This sword just suits me. Look, Olivia. Look how they’ve inlaid this hilt.”