"I apprehend that the cockatrice was to be hatched near by," said Sir Charles.
"It is the likeliest thing," answered the Governor, "seeing that their ringleader belongs to this plantation. But we do not know. And there may not be time to reach the planters, to give them warning, to arrest these d--d traitors, scattered as they are from the James to Rappahannock, and from Henricus to the Chesapeake. It might be best to assemble the trainbands at this cursed spot if it can be found, and to await their coming in force. But to know neither time nor place--to start a hue and cry and have the storm burst before it reaches ten plantations--to guard one point and see fire rise at another a dozen leagues away--impossible! Gentlemen, we must come at the heart of this matter!"
"It is most advisable," said Colonel Verney gravely. "Examine the prisoners again," suggested Sir Charles.
"One of them is no wiser than we. You are certain as to this, Mistress Patricia?"
"Humph! one does not know; three are dead, there remain, then, that shaven and branded runaway and the two convicts."
"You will learn naught from the runaway, your Excellency!" called out the overseer from where he stood at a respectful distance from the company. "He 's one of them crazy fanatics that wild horses could n't draw truth from. No Indian torture stake could make him speak if he did n't want to,--nor keep him from it if he did."
"I know that kind," said the Governor, with a short laugh, "and we will not waste time upon him, but will try if the convict--he who seems to have been their leader--be not more amenable. Bring him in, Woodson."
When the overseer had gone, a silence fell upon the company gathered in the master's room. The Governor paced to and fro, perplexity in his face; the Colonel knit his grizzled brows and studied the floor; Dr. Anthony Nash brought the writing materials displayed upon the table, closer to him, and held a quill ready poised for dipping into the ink horn, while the Surveyor-General with a carefully composed countenance toyed with a pink which he took from the bowl of flowers before him. Sir Charles leaned back in his seat and looked at Patricia who, seated between him and her father, stared before her with hard, bright eyes. Her lips were like a scarlet flower against the absolute pallor of her face; her hair was a crown of pale gold. In the great chair, her white arms resting upon the dark wood, her feet upon a carved footstool, she looked a queen, and the knot of brilliantly dressed gentlemen her attendant council.