Cupids Read Free Page B

I say it, faith, are so often at the very heart of failure and success. In short, the fate of Cupers Cove is in our own hands.”
    For the first time, Mr. Egret raises his head in my direction. I believe I see the hint of a smile playing upon his white lips and the ghost of a twinkle in his pale eye. “You really believe so, Mr. Guy? How interesting, and how very like a young man to believe. You think that blind faith and belly fire can prize open the treasure chest of worlds unknown.” He lays his quill carefully next to his paper. Although his spare, sardonic face retains hints of whimsy, there is a bitter sadness in the grooves of his cheek. “And yet, why should I caution or criticize? Such is the spirit that is indeed opening up the globe. It is upward and onward you must look. Why should you dwell on the English bones and tears mingling in the dust of foreign climes?”
    â€œI venture to hope, Mr. Egret,” I say, returning his smile, “that provided our company remains steadfast in its backing, salt fish, timber, ores as yet undiscovered, and not bones and tears may prove our legacy.”
    â€œSo we all hope with you,” he replies, frowning deeply. “I have scars and burdens enough from past failures, Mr. Guy. The world is discovering, to its cost, that a colonizing venture relies upon more than a successful yield of goods. It requires viability. And viability is a team of acrobats at a fair, a diamond of interconnected bodies rising all in perfect balance upon the shoulders of one strong man.” His mention of the word “diamond” draws my attention to the wrought-gold pendant nestling within the cluster of its chain upon his desk. Inlaid with stones of mauve and green and studded with diamonds, this famous gift from a group of Venetian merchants is a curiously ostentatious possession for such a cautious man. It sits like a talisman, a reminder perhaps of his purpose in life — a studious accumulation of wealth at minimum risk to himself. He follows my flitting gaze, blinks and gives me a sickly smile. “Salt fish, timber, even ore will come to naught if the land will not yield enough grain to sustain your animals, if the animals will not multiply to feed the men, and the men not multiply to do all the required work. It was such a venture as yours that swallowed up my late brother, although it was the east and not the west to which he sailed.” His eyes have taken on a forlorn and faraway look; I can see some vague, distant expanse in their paleness. “In confidence and determination, Mr. Guy, as you stand before me now, you are his very image.” He gives a brief shake of the head, takes up his pen once more and begins to scratch more figures. “I only pray,” he intones very slowly, as though reciting a particularly depressing psalm, “that you may have better luck than he.”
    I take a glance to the side. Bartholomew, who has been completely silent as I instructed him, gives me a bewildered stare. It shames me to make one last attempt.
    â€œI thank you for your prayers, Mr. Egret, and I’m sorry for your family’s great losses.” I pause for only a moment. “But optimism is essential to the success of the colony in Cupers Cove and to its expansion throughout the Avalon and beyond. We have, as detailed already, harvested fish in great quantity as well as hardy root vegetables. We have built sturdy houses for living and storage and fine cottages beyond the centre of our settlement. We have weathered the first winter without loss of a man. And a successful grain harvest will, God willing, be next.”
    â€œAh,” he says whimsically, leaning back in his chair, “God willing!”
    I ignore this and press on. “But thirty-nine men cannot create a society unaided. The Crown, I firmly believe, is hopeful, as are the majority of our stockholders.” I pause again, this time to push home the most important