"That's it. You're not one that takes long to grasp a situation, and so I told Ingle. We are to set sail to-morrow to a point in the bay where we look to find _The Reformation_ awaiting us, and then under cover of night we shall slip through the mouth of the Potomac River and be in the town ere daybreak. That, I fancy, will be a surprise indeed for Calvert, who, I hear, is lately come back from England, and fancies his little kingdom here secure from all invaders. Now, what say you? May we count on you and your son to be on the wharf with your firearms to-morrow, an hour or so past noon?" "You may not." Claiborne started. "You are not ready, then, to hazard anything for the honor of Virginia." "Pardon me; I never gave any man the right to say that, but neither gave I any man charge over my conscience to tell me what was needful to sustain my honor or that of the Commonwealth. For my part I see in this raid you do propose an outrage on the rights of a sister colony, an outrage sure to be resented and sometime revenged, and meanwhile to sow seeds of dissension among the little handful of civilized white men scattered along this unfriendly coast." "Forgive me," sneered Claiborne; "I had quite mistook both your character and your inclination. My time is too short to listen to longer sermon-making, the more as I must seek further for brave men who have stomach for a fight." Huntoon bowed coldly and made a step toward the door. Claiborne hesitated. "I trust," he said, "I may at least depend upon your secrecy." "As for that, I must settle it with my own conscience after more thought. I sought no confidence, and am bound to no silence which I count an injury to the colony; but as the enterprise is a private one, I see so far no reason for the Government's interfering, though for myself I tell you in all frankness I should count it strict justice if you and your precious friend, Ingle, found a noose awaiting you at your journey's end." Claiborne laughed, and played with the hilt of his sword. "Thanks, Master Huntoon, for your courtesy and good wishes, but we'll look after our own necks, and do you the same. We have no taste for hanging, and it behooves all of the name of Calvert to keep more than a rope's length from Richard Ingle and William Claiborne." With an assumed jauntiness the visitor strode out at the open door and went whistling down the path. Huntoon stood still plunged in thought, moving his foot about on the floor. When he looked up he was startled by the change in Neville's appearance. It was as if the soul had roused itself from its long trance and had taken command of the body once more. "I heard and I understood," he said. "Understood what?" said Huntoon, to test him. "Everything. It was as if his words made a gap in that wall of fog I told you of this morning, and of a sudden I could see the world beyond. Dick Ingle is come back. He and Claiborne are to attack St. Mary's. Is that true?" "It is true," sighed Huntoon.