"Then there is a New Ireland, where the fisherman is lord of his scrap of sea. But only until the church or Britain puts some new chains on his freedom."

"Everyone has his own vision for the new found land. There's the nation's vision, the ruler's vision, and the servant's vision."

"I'm a servant. My vision was of a simple life. But England sent me to defend its vision. That happens to us, William Pender. Men like you and me. Our aim for a simple life gets drowned by greed."

William Pender could not answer. He knew the other man was in a different world. He waited.

D'Iberville's men came closer. He knew William Drew was the one they could see. William Drew knew it too. He knew what they wanted. They had Ada and May. They had already burned the shacks around the harbour. They wanted his scalp as a prize for the English fort on the hill. This drama in the moonlit shadows was a dream of things that had already been.

William Drew looked at William Pender. He did not smile. Behind him d'Iberville's men stood. Their swords flashed in the trees. The dead man cried out—

"That which is already has been
and that which is to be already has been..."

William Pender wondered where the words came from. Man had so many words of wisdom. But the words proved life was a puzzle. They did not make it easier. He saw the other William grin as he moved toward the woods. The dead man's teeth and eyes caught the last scrap of firelight.

"This is what you want," William Drew called to d'Iberville's men. He grabbed the sword with the brass leaf. He swung it high. Then he did a thing that horrified William Pender. He sliced his own scalp. He pulled the skin and hair away from his skull bone. He dangled his scalp in the air, grinning.

William Pender saw him sink into the woods. D'Iberville's men closed around him. William saw their shadows cover him. Blue clouds covered the moon.