“ And then? Was the road desperate?” Raleigh's pale eyes had the ardour of a boy's.
“ Desperate beyond all telling. An escalade of sheer mountains and a battling through vales choked with unbelievable thorns. Yet there was water and food, and the hardships were not beyond mortal endurance. 'Twas not a haunted hell like the way up. Wherefore I knew it would lead us to disaster, for 'twas not ordained as the path in the chart had been.”
Raleigh laughed. “Faith, you show your mother's race. All Coffyns have in their souls the sour milk of Jean Calvin.”
“ Judge if I speak not the truth. Bit by bit we had to cast our burdens till only the jewels remained. And on the seventh day, when we were in sight of the river, we met a Spanish party, a convoy from their northern mines. We marched loos
