At noon on the last day of August, Vytal, accompanied by Manteo, started southward on a short reconnoissance. Before going, he left strict injunctions with Marlowe to admit none to the fortress save those who knew the countersign. He had left the poet, who was now well skilled in military methods, to maintain a watchful guard in the absence of Hugh Rouse and Roger Prat. Furthermore, he gave Dyonis Harvie positive orders to preserve a similar caution respecting the Admiral and fly-boat, of which the worthy mate was now temporarily in command.
On receiving this instruction, the seaman scratched his head in perplexity. “There is one who pesters me,” he said, “with importunate demands to come aboard, and as he is but a harmless lunatic—poor soul!—who says he longs to be on the deck of an English ship, and to imagine himself homeward bound, perhaps you will not refuse him.”
“You speak of Master Ralph Contempt?”
“Yes.”
“Even to him make no exception. Admit one, admit all. Only the few who know our sign must learn the condition of these vessels.”
“And Simon Ferdinando?”
“For the form’s sake you cannot question his authority. But he is well watched;” and Vytal rowed back to the shore. Here he met Marlowe.
“Our guest,” said the poet, “even now seeks admittance to the fortress, longing, he pitifully declares, for the sight of weapons that can avenge his comrades’ lives.”
“It is hard to forbid him entrance,” returned the soldier, “but there must be no exception. The example is needed to maintain secrecy;” with which Vytal joined Manteo in the woods.