"Yes," I answered. "It is for thee, a chief and warrior."
He took it in his hands, and felt of its sharp edge with his fingers.
"Manteo will never forget," he said. "The Eagle has treated him as a brave; these others think of him as a woman." With that he betook himself away, and in a few moments I saw him at the grindstone, putting a razor edge upon the weapon.
Save for the Indian and White, I saw little of my fellow-passengers; for in some way my story had gotten out among them, probably some of the men had seen me in London, and I felt the chill in their bearing towards me. As I would near a group of men laughing and talking, the noise would cease, and they would stop to peer and whisper, until I had passed on. They said no word, uttered no gibe; they knew of my swordsmanship too well for that. Wonderful stories had been told of my valor and daring; of my matchless skill with the sword in the great fight with the Spanish Armada. So they feared to cross me, they could only gaze and whisper among themselves. That was enough though, and I shrank from contact with them as though they had the plague; only White, kind and gentle, ever the same, and the Indian remained.
White had spoken to me of the rumor only once. One night as I strode the deck impatiently by myself, for the Indian had gone below to mend a broken arrow, the Governor joined me. We had talked of different things, until finally he had said gravely:
"These stories that have been circulated about thee, Sir Thomas—they are false?"
"Yes," I replied quietly, "they are lies of the whole cloth."
"I am glad," he said gently. "I should grieve if they had been true of so gallant a gentleman," and then he had turned the subject to other things. He had never spoken of it again.
The Indian had observed the demeanor of the men too, though he made no sign. Once when I stood moody and dejected, alone and apart, oppressed with the bitterness of my life, he came up noiselessly to where I stood, and touched me upon the arm.
"The curs bark at the heels of the gray wolf, the monarch of the forest, but they dare not touch him, lest they feel his fangs." And looking down into his dark eyes I knew that here at least was one who understood, and in his savage way sympathized with me, and I was comforted.