“He is dead, Master Rolfe,” he said. “There can be no other conclusion,—a brave man lost to you and to the colony. We mourn with you, sir.”
“We too have searched, Jack,” put in West. “We have not been idle, though well-nigh all men believe that the Indians, who we know had a grudge against him, murdered him and his man that night, then threw their bodies into the river, and themselves made off out of our reach. But we hoped against hope that when your party returned he would be in your midst.”
“As for this latest loss,” continued the Governor, “within an hour of its discovery this morning search parties were out; yea, if I had allowed it, the whole town would have betaken itself to the woods. The searchers have not returned, and we are gravely anxious. Yet we are not utterly cast down. This trail can hardly be missed, and the Indians are friendly. There were a number in town overnight, and they went with the searchers, volunteering to act as their guides. We cannot but think that of this load, our hearts will soon be eased.”
“God grant it!” groaned Rolfe. “I will drink but a cup of wine, sir, and then will be gone upon this new quest.”
There was a movement in the room. “You are worn and spent with your fruitless travel, sir,” said the Governor kindly. “I give you my word that all that can be done is doing. Wait at least for the morning, and the good news it may bring.”
The other shook his head. “I will go now. I could not look my friend in the face else—God in heaven!”
The Governor sprang to his feet; through the Treasurer's lips came a long, sighing breath; West's dark face was ashen. I came forward to the table, and leaned my weight upon it; for all the waves of the sea were roaring in my ears, and the lights were going up and down.
“Are you man or spirit?” cried Rolfe through white lips. “Are you Ralph Percy?”
“Yes, I am Percy,” I said. “I have not well understood what quest you would go upon, Rolfe, but you cannot go to-night. And those parties that your Honor talked of, that have gone with Indians to guide them to look for some lost person,—I think that you will never see them again.”
With an effort I drew myself erect, and standing so told my tidings, quietly and with circumstance, so as to leave no room for doubt as to their verity, or as to the sanity of him who brought them. They listened, as the warder had listened, with shaking limbs and gasping breath; for this was the fall and wiping out of a people of which I brought warning.