“’Tis a ship,” she said, breathlessly. “I can just remember the white wings. In one of these ships my grandfather sailed away, and they say that I saw him go. In another went Master Kyt, but I saw not the wings that bore him from us. I wonder if Master Kyt is returning? How many years have passed since he departed?” She held up her hand and counted them on her tapering fingers. “’Tis five—” But for once the Indian was not heeding her. “Look,” he said, “there is not one ship only.” Turning again to face the sea, she saw two distinct white clouds, one in the middle distance, one just surmounting the horizon. “Come,” suggested Virginia, “let us give the signal to our people who fish in the sound.” So saying, she led him along the palisade until they reached Vytal’s deserted hut, near which the old culverin still remained on guard and ready-primed. “This is the way,” she commanded—“Captain Vytal showed me,” and, when he had obeyed her instructions, a deafening roar went seaward from the land. “Oh, ’tis a terrible sound,” cried Virginia, covering her ears with her hands; “but that is enough, and now let us go down to meet the townsmen as they land and tell them the tidings before they spy those wings themselves.” As she started away, first one, then another musket-shot, each fainter than the last, answered her signal from the south. With a long succession of alarums, the fishermen repeated the first startling report back and back even to Croatan. By the time Virginia and the Indian reached the northern shore several barges were already within sight. Vytal, leading in a canoe, was the first to land. “Two ships are coming!” cried Virginia. “Where is my mother?” But the soldier strode past her, making no reply, his eyes ablaze with a light that long ago had left them as though forever. Hugh Rouse, stepping ashore from the next canoe, leaned forward from his great height and seized Virginia by the arm as though to crush her with a single grasp. “What were those words of thine?” he demanded, with unprecedented ferocity. “Speak them again!” “A ship is coming,” she said, half fearfully; “nay, two.” But the last words were unheard, and the giant, turning to face the many approaching barges, roared out, “A sail!” “A sail! A sail! A sail!” was the wild cry which, repeated again and again, with increasing frenzy, went ringing from the foremost craft to the very last. And, before long, the headland on the eastern coast was overrun by mad men and women who, with tears streaming from their eyes and kerchiefs frantically waving, gave free vent to their overwhelming joy. The floodgates of emotion, so long forced to withstand a mighty strain, had been shattered in an instant; and now the torrent, tempestuous, whirling, wild, upleaping, uncontrollable, burst from their very souls. Salvation was at hand.