John Lowe glared at her. "And since when is it for you to say I'll not be there?"
"I'm your lawful wife, John Lowe. And who is this man would tell you what to do? You read your Bible night and morn, John Lowe, and you tell me and you tell Bess we should read it, too, and all the bay knows it. An' how can you preach to us as you do an' join in this deed? 'Righteous shall be all my days,' say you, an' you think o' joinin' a band that will sink an' destroy—yes, an' mayhap kill in the morning. This American has as much right to what herrin' his men can ketch as anybody else."
John Lowe turned to the trader. "She's right, Mr. Lackford, she's right."
"You'll not be with us?"
"I can't."
"After all you said! Well, there will be enough without you." He was still addressing John Lowe, but it was on the woman his eyes were bent. "Only let me carry back the word you'll not be against us."
"No, no—I'll not be against you."
"That's enough. Good night."
"Good night."
The door closed. They listened to the crunching of the trader's boot-heels on the pebbly beach outside.