The Revenant Series--The Lost Colony
Chapter Four
Chapter Four
The next day the storm abated, and by late afternoon a small flyboat appeared in the harbor, having successfully navigated the shallow shoals of the treacherous outer banks. John White’s ride back to England was at hand.
Governor White carried a satchel under his arm filled with his drawings and notes, and walked to the water’s edge. A rowboat had arrived coming to transport him to the flyboat, which would take him to the Fernandez’s ship Lion, still at anchor outside the banks. There had scarcely been time for proper goodbyes, and Eleanor clung with one arm to her father, pleading for him to stay. Under her other arm she cradled Virginia, swaddled in the warm fur of a bearskin wrap, a gift from Manteo. Ananias waded out knee-deep into the water to steady the rowboat. The governor palmed Eleanor’s shoulders.
“By next spring I will be back,” he assured her. “With all we need. A fleet of boats filled with goods—wine and cheese—and perhaps even cattle.” He wiped the tears from Eleanor’s eyes with his sleeve.
“And clothes for baby Virginia?” she asked. “Something from the London merchants?”
“Yes,” White smiled, hugging his daughter close to him. “A smock or two from the Cheapside clothiers.” Then he pulled her in close to him, gathering her in a firm embrace.
“Now listen to me carefully, Eleanor,” he said. “What I tell you now is vital, and all your lives may rely on it. In the main, I trust Manteo, as does Sir Walter, but he is not one of us; he is Croatoan, and his allegiances may revert to his own people. Watch him carefully. I have seen him acting strangely of late—he leaves the colony village at night. He says he goes to parlay with his people, but I have had Ananias follow him, and Manteo vanishes into the inland woods. Ananias loses his tracks among the game trails. We know not where he goes.”
Eleanor pulled away.
“But Manteo saved my life … Surely you would not spy on him?”
“I give him the benefit of the doubt. But mark me this: because of Indian attacks, or the untenable nature of Roanoke Island, the colony may be forced to move. You have boats enough to relocate some fifty miles up the main, toward the Bay of Chesapeake. If the colony does move, I’m entrusting you to leave for me a mark, here at Roanoke in the trees, and at the fort, carving letters and words that point to where you have gone so that I can find you. Promise me this!”
Eleanor had begun to cry again, but she straightened and gathered herself.
“I promise,” she said, dabbing her tears with the edge of the bearskin wrap.
“And last, my darling. So that I know the condition and circumstances of your departure … If when you leave here you are imperiled, under siege or in danger, carve the mark of the Maltese cross as a sign of your distress. If your departure is not under duress, leave none. Can you remember?”
“I swear on Virginia’s life, father.”
The boatman called out that it was time to leave. Ananias waded over and carried White’s satchel to the boat and placed it aboard, then promised to look after the man’s family, adding that he would care for his personal things. There was no time to say more. Ananias helped John White aboard and pushed the rowboat from the sandy shoal, and he and Eleanor waved goodbye and watched the boat row away, growing smaller and smaller until it was subsumed by the horizon and the graying light of the inlets. As they turned inland, they saw that the entire colony had gathered to watch his departure as well, knowing that their lives and fates likely lay in the hands of the man now leaving them.
But Eleanor Dare understood that more immediately, their well-being and governance rested in the hands of the Croatoan Manteo—whom she noticed as she scanned the huddle of resolute and murmuring colonists—was conspicuously nowhere to be found.