Through the dark of the night the wind whispered in a way Persis had never before been aware of hearing.  From her unbarred window she saw only a faint glimmer which must be a lantern on the wharf.  But she did not focus on that, rather her eyes turned inward on pictures her memory presented.

Uncle Augustin was - gone.

And, to her dull surprise, his death had left a bigger void in her life than she would have guessed possible.  She knew now his will had ruled her days, so much so that she could not think of life going on without him.

Slowly she stepped back from the window.  Within the room only a single candle battled the shadows.  Persis felt a flash of anger.  Why had she been left in so much ignorance by Uncle Augustin?  She was neither foolish nor flighty, but neither had she ever been allowed to think for herself.

Shubal had gone to pieces and she had taken enough initiative to order him to bed.  Dr. Veering had given the old man a sleeping draft at her request.  But that was all she had been able to do.

For Captain Leverett had simply taken command.  In a way, he had acted as high-handedly as when he had swept her off the deck of the Arrow, displaying a little of the same impatience - or so she thought.  Distraught as she had been at her uncle's final collapse, she had not been a hysterical female, though one would have believed so the way he had given orders right and left.

There was lacking in him that reckless air which Ralph Grillon showed.  The Captain might be only a little older than the Bahamian, but his self-confidence was so complete that he was as impervious as Uncle Augustin to the will or desires of others.

He -

Persis tensed.  How could she have forgotten!  The portfolio which had been Uncle Augustin's last charge to her!  Hours ago she had sent Molly off to bed, and promised to sleep herself.  Only sleep had not come; her mind kept reenacting that last scene when her uncle had called in fear the name of a man long dead.

What had moved him to talk of murder?  Persis shivered, drawing her shawl closer about her.  The story he had told her about the Rooke who was a Tory - was there more to it than what Uncle Augustin had chosen to say?  Had he known Amos Rooke as more than just an infamous family legend?