Then I told my story, to which he listened, scowling, yet with that ready laugh at his mouth. “’Tis a scurvy trick to serve a woman, both for her sake and the rest of us, to let her meddle with such matters,” he said, “and so I told that cousin of hers, Master Drake, who came with her to give the order ere I sailed for England.”

“Came any man save Ralph Drake with her then?” I asked.

“The saints forbid,” he replied.  “A secret is a secret only when in the keeping of one; with two it findeth legs, but with three it unfoldeth the swiftest wings of flight in all creation, and is everywhere with no alighting.  Had three come to me with that mad order to bring powder and shot in the stead of silk stockings and garters and cambric shifts and kerchiefs, I would have clapped full sail on the Golden Horn, though—­” he hesitated, then spoke in a whisper—­“my mind is against tyranny, to speak you true, though I care not a farthing whether men pray on their knees or their feet, or in gowns or the fashion of Eden.  And I care not if they pray at all, nor would I for the sake of that ever have forsaken, had I stood in my grandfather’s shoes, the flesh-pots of old England for that howling wilderness of Plymouth.  But for the sake of doing as I willed, and not as any other man, would I have sailed or swam the seas had they been blood instead of water.  And so am I now with a due regard to the wind and the trim of my sails and the ears of tale-bearers, for a man hath but one head to lose with you of Virginia.  But, the Lord, to make a little maid like that run the risk of imprisonment or worse, knew you aught of it, sir?”

I shook my head.

Captain Tabor laughed.  “And yet she rode straight to the wharf with you yesterday,” said he.  “Lord, what hidden springs move a woman!  I’ll warrant, sir, had you known, you might have battened down the hatches fast enough on her will, convict though you be, and, faith, sir, but you look to me like one who is convict or master at his own choosing and not by the will of any other.”  So saying, he gave me a look so sharp that for a second I half surmised that he guessed my secret, but knew better at once, and said that our business was to deal not with what had been, but with what might be.

“Well,” said he, “and what may that be, Master Wingfield, in your opinion?  You surely do not mean to hold the Golden Horn in midstream with her cargo undischarged until the day of doom, lest yon old beldame offer up her fair granddaughter on the altar of her loyalty, with me and my hearties for kindling, to say naught of yourself and a few of the best gentlemen of Virginia.  I forfeit my head if I set sail for England; naught is left for me that I see that shall save my neck but to turn pirate and king it over the high seas.  Having swallowed a small morsel of my Puritan misgivings, what is to hinder my bolting the whole, like an exceeding bitter pill, to my complete purging of danger?  What say you, Master Wingfield?  Small reputation have you to lose, and sure thy reckoning with powers that be leaves thee large creditor.  Will you sail with me?  My first lieutenant shall you be, and we will share the booty.”