I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand and saw them nearly mud from the dust. ’Twas no use. I dropped my head, defeated, expecting Dobbs to pass on without answering me. I was, after all, but a woman.

Yet, a woman’s tears have some value, and in this case, they worked. Dobbs spat on the ground and narrowed his eyes. His disgust seemed to be for the soldiers and not for me.

“Council had to decide whether to meet the Spanish dogs in the river or try to hold ’em from the fort. So ol’ Percy, he says, ‘How ’bout we meet ’em in the river, ’cause our men can’t run away in ships!’” Dobbs gave a laugh, some­thing of a cackle, and I saw that most of his teeth were blackened or gone. I was glad he found this amusing. However, my husband was a soldier, his life was in danger, I had a terrified little girl under the bed, and my dearest friend was somewhere outside the fort, probably locked out.

“Thank you kindly, sir,” I said coldly and turned to walk into the house. I was finding it hard to be grateful to this man, however helpful he had just been. Perhaps I wanted to take all my fear out on him, just as he wanted to take his hatred of the colony out on the soldiers.

“Mistress!” he called firmly. I turned to look at him. His voice had softened. “Your friend will have plenty of time to return. She probably just can’t get back yet, what with all the commotion and the forest gate being bolted.” I nodded. The tears had not stopped, and all I could say was, “Pray God, you are right, sir.”

Just then, drums caught my ears—a signal to the troops, who instantly silenced their activity. Dale was shouting again, waving his rapier menacingly. His eyes were wild.