“May it please you, her Majesty’s subjects of England, we, your friends and countrymen, the planters in Virginia, do by these let you and every [one] of you to understand that for the present and speedy supply of certain our known and apparent lacks and needs, most requisite and necessary for the good and happy planting of us, or any other in this land of Virginia, we all of one mind and consent have most earnestly entreated and incessantly requested John White, Governor of the planters in Virginia, to pass into England for the better and more assured help, and setting forward of the foresaid supplies, and knowing assuredly that he both can best and will labor and take pains in that behalf for us all, and he not once but often refusing it for our sakes, and for the honor and maintenance of the action hath at last, though much against his will, through our importunacy yielded to leave his government and all his goods among us, and himself in all our behalfs to pass into England, of whose knowledge and fidelity in handling this matter, as all others, we do assure ourselves by these presents, and will you to give all credit thereunto, the 25 of August, 1587.”[7] Eleanor had already said good-bye in private, but once more she kissed her father, pressed his hand, whispered in his ear, and then, as he stepped into the cock-boat which awaited him, returned to her baby, that lay crowing in its nurse’s arms. “Body o’ me,” said a voice near by. “The prow hangs a-land. Dame Cock-boat refuses to be gone. Hi, little Rouse, come help them.” The two joined their fellow, who, under Captain Pomp’s directions, was striving to launch the craft, which had been nearly deserted by an ebb-tide. “Whist!” said Roger in Hugh’s ear, “we’ll make Master Dare give aid.” Hugh looked at the assistant and saw a sorry picture. “’Tis a ghost,” he exclaimed, “not a man in flesh and fell.” “The corpse of Courage,” added Prat, after the poet’s manner. The man they discussed seemed like a ghost indeed, that would fade with the mist when the sun rose higher. His face, pallid and haggard, was turned toward the cock-boat as to a last resort. “He would leave,” observed Rouse, while, side by side with Roger, he pushed the governor’s craft slowly forward. For a moment the keel ceased grating on the shingle, and Prat turned to Ananias. “Oh, Master Dare, I pray you give us aid! ’Tis a most unconscionable task!” At which one or two others near the cock-boat exchanged winks and covert smiles. They showed no mercy. Dare, between the two soldiers, was forced himself to cut the last thread between danger and safety.