to pay it."

"Listen to him!" he laughed. "And what kind of answer would I get from
my lord Howard and His Majesty? Every greasy member would be on his
feet in Parliament in defence of what he called English rights. Then
there would come a dispatch from the Government telling the poor
Deputy-Governor of Virginia to go to the devil!"

He looked at me curiously, screwing up his eyes.

"By the way, Mr. Garvald, what is your trade?"

"I am a merchant like the others," I said; "only my ships run from
Glasgow instead of Bristol."

"A very pretty merchant," he said quizzically. "I have heard that hawks
should not pick out hawks' eyes. What do you propose to gain, Mr.
Garvald?"

"Better business," I said. "To be honest with you, sir, I am suffering
from the close monopoly of the Englishman, and I think the country is
suffering worse. I have a notion that things can be remedied. If you
cannot put on a levy, good and well; that is your business. But I mean
to make an effort on my own account."

Then I told him something of my scheme, and he heard me out with a
puzzled face.

"Of all the brazen Scots--" he cried.

"Scot yourself," I laughed, for his face and speech betrayed him.

"I'll not deny that there's glimmerings of sense in you, Mr. Garvald.
But how do you, a lad with no backing, propose to beat a strong
monopoly buttressed by the whole stupidity and idleness of Virginia?
You'll be stripped of your last farthing, and you'll be lucky if it
ends there. Don't think I'm against you. I'm with you in your
principles, but the job is too big for you."

"We will see," said I. "But I can take it that, provided I keep within
the law, His Majesty's Governor will not stand in my way?"

"I can promise you that. I'll do more, for I'll drink success to your
enterprise." He filled me a great silver tankard of spiced sack, and I
emptied it to the toast of "Honest Men."

* * * * *

All the time at the back of my head were other thoughts than
merchandise. The picture which Frew had drawn of Virginia as a smiling
garden on the edge of a burning pit was stamped on my memory. I had
seen on my travels the Indians that dwelled in the Tidewater, remnants
of the old great clans of Doeg and Powhatan and Pamunkey. They were
civil enough fellows, following their own ways, and not molesting their
scanty white neighbours, for the country was wide enough for all. But
so far as I could learn, these clanlets