‘This is Virginia,’ the man reminded him. ‘Guests are not an imposition, they are our only source of entertainment. You will be a great pleasure for us. I am sure you have much news of London.’

‘Then I would be delighted.’

‘I drive back to my house tomorrow,’ Sir Josiah said. ‘Shall I collect you from your inn?’

‘Drive?’ John queried.

‘Oh yes, we have a road which runs alongside the river. The tobacco still goes by boat, of course, but I generally drive into town in my cart.’

John blinked. ‘I see that everything is indeed changed.’ He paused for a moment. ‘May I ask one thing: when I was last here I spent some time with the Powhatan people, before the war. They helped me in the woods when I was plant collecting.’

‘Oh yes?’ Sir Josiah was pulling on his gloves and clapping his hat on his head. John saw that the Virginian belief that the very air was a danger was still prevalent.

‘I was wondering where they would be now?’

‘Dead, most likely,’ Sir Josiah said without regret. ‘A bad business. They could have lived with us in such harmony. But they chose not to. A bad business indeed.’

‘All of them?’

‘There is the village, of course.’

‘The village?’

‘There is a Powhatan village some ten miles inland. You could go and visit if you liked. I doubt that any that you recognised would be allowed out unless you took them into your service and said you would be responsible for their behaviour.’

‘I could do that?’

Sir Josiah hesitated. ‘Forgive me. You may not bring savages into my house.’

‘You don’t have slaves?’

Sir Josiah laughed. ‘Of course I do. How else could I grow tobacco? But I won’t have the native peoples of this land anywhere near my borders. Africans are my slaves, the others are no use to me at all.’

‘But I could go to the village and see if there was anyone I recognised?’

‘Of course.’ Sir Josiah gestured at the clerk. ‘George, give Mr Tradescant here a pass to go to the savages’ village. I will countersign it. Shall you go today?’

‘Yes,’ John said quietly. ‘Today. At once.’

He told the woman at the inn that he would be home for dinner and would leave the next day. ‘And where are you going now?’ she asked with the freedom of speech that the new colony allowed.

‘I am going to find someone,’ John said. ‘At the Powhatan village.’

‘An old servant?’ she sniffed. ‘If you want a servant you can buy a black girl for little more than seven pounds and she will serve you far better than any Indian. The blacks live longer too, and they’re more cheerful company. I’d have a black if I were you.’

‘I want to find a particular person,’ John said, choosing his words with care. ‘Not a slave. Can you point out the road?’