"The captain of the frigate called upon the Governor this morning, so Master Colden told me, with a cock-and-bull story of a mistake in his reckoning that took him north of his course. I smell the taint of a Jacobite plot! Your gloomy friend Jenkins had the right of it. Never trust a Spaniard when he comes with pretense of friendship."
"Mistress O'Donnell said they were for the Floridas," I protested. "Sure, they are not far out of their course."
My father smiled for the first time.
"The little maid would have no knowledge of her father's purpose. And if she did— No, no, lad, I had my share of plotting in my youth. Our Jacobites are a pernicious lot."
"Yet you, yourself, were one of them," I pointed out, a thought maliciously.
His face darkened.
"True, and I learned by experience. Set that to my credit, Bob. Britain is greater than any king or any family. 'Tis the country, not the man, must be considered. And Britain fares better under Hanoverian George than she ever did under a Stuart Charles or James."
I was still unconvinced.
"But certes, sir, 'tis in no sense strange for the Spaniards to dispatch an engineer to inspect their fortifications this side the Atlantic."
"An Irish engineer officer?"