Great Britain -- History -- James I, 1603-1625 -- Fiction; Witchcraft -- Fiction
They put themselves into motion, five human figures now upon the road,
and the horse following his master. The two escaped prisoners and
their helper moved ahead; behind them came Gervaise and the gaoler,
discoursing in whispers. The moon shone down, the wind took a harp-like
tone.
“At the crossroads you four—Humphrey Lantern, that was a good
man-at-arms in the Low Countries, and Gervaise, a born wanderer and a
man of mine between long flittings, and one Giles Allen, a chirurgeon,
and John his brother—will take the road that runs to the port. If you
reach it or reach it not, one wiser than I may tell! Gervaise knows a
place where you may lie hidden to-morrow, going on at nightfall. You
may or may not save yourselves. On the way thither I can give you but
my wishes. But when you come to the port,—if you come to the port,—go
at once to the harbour and find out the Silver Queen.” He gave a packet
wrapped in silk to Aderhold. “Give the letter therein to the captain.
There is also a purse.—Nay, the thing must be done rightly!”
“The Silver Queen.”
“The Silver Queen, sailing to Virginia. I have a venture in her,
and the captain owes me somewhat. She carries a Virginia lading of
adventurers and indentured men.—In Virginia are forests and savage
men and wild beasts, but less preoccupation, maybe, with Exclusive
Salvation and the Guilt of Doubt—though even in Virginia a still
tongue were certainly best!—To Virginia is the only help that I can
give.”
“I am content,” said Aderhold.
The man of the hawk looked at Joan.
“I am content,” she said.
“Good!” said Sir Richard. “Humphrey Lantern is all for adventure and
a new world. But Gervaise, when he has seen you safely shipped, will
manage to cross to Ireland and take service for a time with my brother
there. Next year I’m for France, and I look to find Gervaise dropped
like an acorn on the road to Paris. But Lantern goes with you. What,
good Humphrey, is now your name?”
The red-faced, wry-mouthed man scratched his head. “I hadn’t thought,
Your Honour.... George is a good name—George Dragon, Sir Richard.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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