The enthusiasm I failed to understand made me combative. "What's the good of it?" I said tartly. "It hasn't a soul."
The Stranger stared. He was surprised—or amused—I was not sure which.
"Hasn't a soul! This little town that has nestled there for a thousand years, from the days when the Vikings first sailed up the Torridge till the days when the New World was found, when ships sailed forth to the Indies from that quay there and came back laden with gold and wonderful spices? This little town we're looking at now that sent many ships to the Armada and hundreds more to harry the Spaniards on all the seas? Hasn't a soul, little girl! Are you sure?"
"I didn't know all that; I have never heard of all those things and people. There's Robinson Crewjoe, who sailed away to the Indies and lived on an island, that Aunt Jael wouldn't let Mrs. Cheese finish telling me about. Did he sail from here?"
"I'm not sure, but plenty of people like him did."
"And what's the Vikings and the Great Armada? I've heard of the Great Leviathan. Is that the same?"
"Not quite. Most little girls have heard of these things. It's very strange you know nothing about them. Don't you go to school?"
"I did when I lived in Tawborough with my Grandmother and Aunt Jael: I went to Miss Glory Clinker's. But now I'm in Torribridge I do lessons at home with Aunt Martha."
"Well, hasn't either the lady with the peculiar name or your aunt ever taught you any history?"