Jeremy drank off the tankard, rose, and walked shakily to the sideboard. The onion-flask of brandy was still over half full. He wished he could down it all, then and there. "I heard their plans from Admiral Calvert." He finished pouring and set down the bottle. After a deep drink he moved back to his chair, without meeting Anthony's gaze. "I would all the Assembly and Council could have heard what he said."
"What did that Roundhead criminal do? Threaten you, and then send you home in hopes you'd somehow cozen me?" Anthony looked up. "Jeremy, that man's a base traitor to his king. His father was in Charles' court, and Edmond Calvert was knighted for no more cause than being George Calvert's son. Then when Prince Rupert and the navy declared their support for the king, he took his ship and defected to Parliament. . . ."
"It wasn't a threat."
Suddenly the words came again. Out poured Calvert's story of Cromwell's plans for the island if it defied him. The Assembly and Council would be dismissed and Powlett set up as governor. A garrison would be installed. Moreover, Powlett might well see fit to reward loyal Puritan islanders with the estates of recalcitrant royalists. Anthony Walrond stood to lose all his acres, again.
The elder Walrond listened thoughtfully till the story was finished. Then he slowly drained his tankard. "It's the final
humiliation. Cromwell, may God damn him, can't rest content merely to strike off the head of his Most Royal Majesty. Now he must needs reduce all that king's loyal subjects to nothing."
"But it needn't be." Jeremy put down his tankard. His hands quivered, as though to match the flicker of the candles.
"There's something you haven't told me yet, isn't there, lad? You haven't said why they set you ashore. You didn't escape, did you?" Anthony studied him with sudden dismay. "I'll wager you were sent back. Why was it?"
"Aye. The reason is this." He rose and reached into the pocket of his doublet. The letter was still there, waiting, its wax seal warm against his shirt. "It's for you."
He found himself wishing it had been lost, though he believed with all his heart the message meant salvation. It was a gift of God. Yet something about it now seemed the work of the devil.