The governor’s kindly face was now more grieved than angry. “I had not thought there was so caitiff a knave as Simon among our people. Think you Sir Walter St. Magil will return with a force to menace our little colony?”
“That is wellnigh certain, for St. Magil plays into the hands of Philip, King of Spain. The Spaniards would extend their possessions northward, and have found a friend to aid them. This man, believing he has decreased our numbers by one-half, has gone to inform his patron’s subjects that we stupidly wait here to be killed.”
“Whither has he gone?”
“That I cannot tell. At first I thought to St. Augustine, but the journey by land is very difficult. The Spaniards await him, for all I know, in a camp not half so far.”
The governor, deeply troubled, cast about for the best method of procedure. “Would it not be well to pursue St. Magil, and overtake him if possible before he reaches his destination? I have heard that Indians are as quick and sure as hounds in a pursuit.”
“No. It is best to drill each planter in the use of arms; then, when our homes are built, to fortify the town as best we may, and wait.”
“But we shall suffer heavy loss, even though successful in the end.”
“Not so much as if we run into a snare with no provision for defence. And we shall teach them a lesson.”
“But at how great a cost to us? You, Captain Vytal, have not a child to consider. I have. She is a woman, brave, ’tis true, and stout of heart, but now not strong in body. You know my daughter, Mistress Eleanor Dare?”