“What is it?” asked the girl.
“Money. Gold! Enough to take me to their land. They said so.”
“To their land? You?”
At once great fear fell on her.
“It is naught. A little journey by the sea road—a week—and one is there! They come and go each summer. They will come again the next.”
“But thou—thou wilt not go?”
“I will,” he nodded.
“Forsake thy country?”
“Yea.”
“That was our fathers’ basest treason.”