"I'm right glad to hear of it whenever one of those black crows is put out of the way. No word of it reached me, though I have been hanging about the river here waiting for cargo."
"That means spying on the land," Huntoon thought to himself, but aloud he said,—
"Well, so it has fallen out, and because he had Neville's knife in his breast, the Governor will have it that it was Neville did the murder. He was hot for punishment, and will be sore angered when he finds his prey has slipped through his fingers."
This was shrewdly spoken. To spite Giles Brent, Ingle would have taken much trouble; but his suspicions were not yet set at rest.
"Then what for should Neville want to go to St. Mary's?"
"'Tis a strange affection he hath. You would call it folly; some folks call it honor."
Richard Ingle colored, and Huntoon hastened to change the subject: "Now, Captain Ingle, I have a proposition to make: In regard to the salvage of my cargo belonging to your crew, there might be two opinions; and if you took it without my leave, there might be awkward questions for you to settle when next you come to Virginia; but I'll agree that you may have it as ferryage if you'll take us four and our crew to Romney on the York River, which doubtless lies off your course."
"S' let it be!" growled Ingle, adding under his breath, "Damn the fool! I was going that way anyhow to have talk with Claiborne.
"Turn to, men! Have out the boats, and save what we can from yonder ketch, for by all the signs she will not last half an hour."
Romney had no heart to watch the men at work nor the oars flashing over the water. He turned instead to where Neville lay.