you reconsider!” Her voice sank lower in the final plea. A dull murmur ran through the group, whether of approbation or disapproval she could not tell. Marlowe started. “It will kill Vytal,” he muttered, as though to himself, and, on hearing this, the stout soldier beside him looked bewildered. “Kill Vytal!” repeated Roger. “Gad, man, what mean you?” But now his eyes, rolling up to look at Eleanor, showed that suddenly he had understood. Then Roger Prat seized the thread of the Fates in his own impulsive hand and wove it into a strange pattern, whether for ill or good, none could tell. Swaggering forward, he elbowed his way through the crowd until he stood before the governor. Then he spoke in a low voice. “It cannot be averted. I have seen men thus bewitched on the eve of battle. I have cursed, laughed, coaxed, scolded, all without avail. And I, you know, have great influence, both with sword and—and tabor, which is scarce less to be considered. But retreat gets into their quaking hearts. The mischief is irreparable. Therefore, under your favor, acting for Captain Vytal, I will divide them as is my custom in a war—they who would go and they who would remain. Thus we can know men from chickens.” The governor, sighing, hesitated. “Must it be?” he asked, half aloud. “We shall see,” said Prat, and White inclined his head in permission. Roger turned and faced the gathering. “Divide yourselves, my masters. His Excellency commands that they who would desert—I mean return—stand still, while they who would remain at Roanoke under Captain Vytal come nearer.” The crowd wavered, only Marlowe and Dyonis Harvie stepping forward. “Ah,” observed Prat, “a goodly throng! One, two, and I make three; then the captain, Hugh Rouse, and King Lud make six. Body o’ me! ’Tis indeed an invincible company left to defend the settlement.” He wagged his head, and, turning to the governor, stood at salute between Christopher and Dyonis. “We are ready, your Excellency.” There was something so pathetically appealing in the humor which had marshalled three men as though they were an army that the consciences of many on-lookers smote them, until first one, then another and another, went forward and stood beside the military file. Before long some threescore were elbow to elbow, back to breast, in a double line, not unlike in formation and precision that which but a few days before had so bravely defended the _Admiral_.