Cate of the Lost Colony - Lisa Klein [60]
“The Indians. They came and slew my papa. I saw the arrows in his chest. Oh, my poor papa!” wailed Georgie, his big frame shaking. “They will come back for me next.”
A sense of alarm spread through the crowd as if a hornet buzzed in our midst. Eleanor’s arms tightened around baby Virginia, who awoke and began to cry.
I could barely restrain myself from speaking aloud and murmured to Eleanor, “The governor should stand up to Chapman and Bailey and forbid such talk.”
Eleanor pursed her lips. “It is not a woman’s place to judge a man.”
“Governor, what are you going to do to about the Indians?” Chapman demanded.
“This meeting is adjourned. Go to your houses,” Bailey ordered, though he did not have the authority to do so.
“If there is any trouble, the offender will be arrested,” said the governor. His voice did not carry over the din.
That evening John White consumed his supper in a dismal silence no one in the household dared to break. Afterward he placed his portable desk on his knees and drew a picture of his granddaughter while she slept. He would not even look at Ananias, who remained seated at the table. I took my needle and thread to a ripped seam, wishing I were a man and could speak about government. Hadn’t the queen once said I would make a good councilor? I glanced at Eleanor, hoping she would speak to her father, but she kept her head bent over her own sewing.
I took a deep breath. What did I have to lose by speaking up? “Governor, it pained me today to hear how the men spoke against you and Manteo. Would you not be justified in punishing their sedition?”
I heard Ananias’s cup hit the table.
“Cate!” The loud whisper of warning came from Eleanor.
Only John White did not seem surprised. “Everything is new to them, and they are uncertain and afraid,” he said, continuing to draw.
“Then you must reassure them,” I said. “All of us look to you to keep us united in our purpose.”
To my surprise, Eleanor said, “It is Roger Bailey and Ambrose Vickers who lead the malcontents.”
“Silence, wife!” said Ananias.
Eleanor stood up, her needlework falling from her lap. “I would chain them to the bilboes if I were you, Father!” Then she sat back down and began to rock Virginia’s cradle rapidly.
“You might remind them of what you encountered before, and the negotiations that brought you safely through danger,” I suggested.
He seemed to consider my words. “There are new difficulties I did not expect or even imagine,” he said with a sigh. “The native inhabitants have changed toward us.” He closed his drawing table and stood up, signaling that the conversation was ended.
At least he did not chastise me for speaking.
The next day the seven assistants called on the governor. Ananias came down from the roof he was tiling to join them. I retreated outside, lingering by the open window so I could overhear them, as I had often listened at the queen’s door.
Roger Bailey was their spokesman. “Fernandes informs me that he is now prepared to sail,” he said. “One of us must return to England with him to ensure sufficient supplies are dispatched here, not to Chesapeake, before winter.”
“Excellent,” White said. “I will draft a letter to that purpose for Fernandes to carry.”
“You misunderstand, Governor,” said Bailey.
There was a long pause. Then White replied, “Indeed, perhaps we should not trust Fernandes. Roger, you must be the one to convey the letter.”
“John, we have already decided you should undertake this business,” said another of the assistants.
“But I am the governor here!” White’s voice rose. “I am charged with protecting the queen’s subjects. Choose another among yourselves.”
“We have considered the others,” said Bailey. He cleared his throat. “You are the only one who can be trusted to return here.”
I understood the plan. The assistants knew how much the governor loved this New World, almost as much as he loved his daughter and granddaughter. So they would use Eleanor and Virginia as hostages to ensure that he would bring the goods to