The soldier looked mournful, his chin sinking on his chest until a triple fold submerged it. “I would fain have invented a poem myself,” he avowed, gloomily. “And, indeed, have written a song of the men of Roanoke. Lack-a-day! ’tis but a jigging mother of rhyme, I fear, and poorly done.” Marlowe surveyed him in silence for a moment, then laughed gayly and turned away. At the same moment a flutter of white scraps, like torn paper, fell to Roger’s boots. The gathering that lined the water’s edge was now divided in the centre, and Governor White walked between the ranks, smiling to one and another on either side to conceal the sadness of his farewell. As he came half-way to the shore, Marlowe went forward and stopped him. Holding out a heavy packet, the poet spoke in a low voice. “I pray you see to it that this is delivered to Edward Alleyn, an actor of plays, who dwells in the Blackfriars, or, if he be not readily found, then, I pray you, leave it at the sign of ‘The Three Bibles,’ in charge of Paul Merfin, a bookseller. It was from his shop that I joined John Vytal in the fight for your daughter’s honor. I doubt not you will leave this there as my reward. The packet contains certain stage conceits begun in England and finished here.” “It shall be delivered,” said the governor. “I am, indeed, happy thus to be made a humble sharer in the building of your fame.” The poet smiled. “Fame!” he said. “’Tis not for that I sing.” And now Governor White made his way to the water, while many gathered sorrowfully around him to place letters in his charge. Eleanor went down to the sea hand-in-hand with her father. Those who were to leave had already boarded the two vessels, with the exception of a sailor and Captain Pomp, who stood, befeathered hat in hand, beside the governor’s small-boat. As John White was about to step over the gunwale of this craft, Vytal approached him. “Since it must be,” said the soldier, “I have sought at least to exonerate you from all slander in England and charges of desertion. The Oxford preacher hath writ this,” and he handed a scroll of paper to the governor. It read as follows: