“Yet I came with half a mind to persuade thee to that very burden!” he cried, with another laugh. “Thanks for thy pains,” I said, blowing blue rings into the air. “I have ridden to-day from Jamestown,” he went on. “I was the only man, i' faith, that cared to leave its gates; and I met the world--the bachelor world--flocking to them. Not a mile of the way but I encountered Tom, Dick, and Harry, dressed in their Sunday bravery and making full tilt for the city. And the boats upon the river! I have seen the Thames less crowded.” “There was more passing than usual,” I said; “but I was busy in the fields, and did not attend. What's the lodestar?” “The star that draws us all,--some to ruin, some to bliss ineffable, woman.” “Humph! The maids have come, then?” He nodded. “There's a goodly ship down there, with a goodly lading.” “Videlicet, some fourscore waiting damsels and milkmaids, warranted honest by my Lord Warwick,” I muttered. “This business hath been of Edwyn Sandys' management, as you very well know,” he rejoined, with some heat. “His word is good: therefore I hold them chaste. That they are fair I can testify, having seen them leave the ship.” “Fair and chaste,” I said, “but meanly born.” “I grant you that,” he answered. “But after all, what of it? Beggars must not be choosers. The land is new and must be peopled, nor will those who come after us look too curiously into the lineage of those to whom a nation owes its birth. What we in these plantations need is a loosening of the bonds which tie us to home, to England, and a tightening of those which bind us to this land in which we have cast our lot. We put our hand to the plough, but we turn our heads and look to our Egypt and its fleshpots. 'T is children and wife--be that wife princess or peasant--that make home of a desert, that bind a man with chains of gold to the country where they abide. Wherefore, when at midday I met good Master Wickham rowing down from Henricus to Jamestown, to offer his aid to Master Bucke in his press of business to-morrow, I gave the good man Godspeed, and thought his a fruitful errand and one pleasing to the Lord.” “Amen,” I yawned. “I love the land, and call it home. My withers are unwrung.” He rose to his feet, and began to pace the greensward before the door. My eyes followed his trim figure, richly though sombrely clad, then fell with a sudden dissatisfaction upon my own stained and frayed apparel. “Ralph,” he said presently, coming to a stand before me, “have you ever an hundred and twenty pounds of tobacco in hand? If not, I”-- “I have the weed,” I replied. “What then?” “Then at dawn drop down with the tide to the city, and secure for thyself one of these same errant damsels.”