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you,” he said at last, very quietly, “that the object in view was—leaving out of account your own appetites which, as every one knows, are just those of a hangman—to rid the Caribbean of buccaneers. Now, I've taken the most effective way of accomplishing that object. The knowledge that I've entered the King's service should in itself go far towards disbanding the fleet of which I was until lately the admiral.”

“I see!” sneered the Deputy-Governor malevolently. “And if it does not?”

“It will be time enough then to consider what else is to be done.”

Lord Julian forestalled a fresh outburst on the part of Bishop.

“It is possible,” he said, “that my Lord Sunderland will be satisfied, provided that the solution is such as you promise.”

It was a courteous, conciliatory speech. Urged by friendliness towards Blood and understanding of the difficult position in which the buccaneer found himself, his lordship was disposed to take his stand upon the letter of his instructions. Therefore he now held out a friendly hand to help him over the latest and most difficult obstacle which Blood himself had enabled Bishop to place in the way of his redemption. Unfortunately the last person from whom Peter Blood desired assistance at that moment was this young nobleman, whom he regarded with the jaundiced eyes of jealousy.

“Anyway,” he answered, with a suggestion of defiance and more than a suggestion of a sneer, “it's the most ye should expect from me, and certainly it's the most ye'll get.”

His lordship frowned, and dabbed his lips with a handkerchief.

“I don't think that I quite like the way you put it. Indeed, upon reflection, Captain Blood, I am sure that I do not.”

“I am sorry for that, so I am,” said Blood impudently. “But there it is. I'm not on that account concerned to modify it.”

His lordship's pale eyes opened a little wider. Languidly he raised his eyebrows.

“Ah!” he said. “You're a prodigiously uncivil fellow. You disappoint me, sir. I had formed the notion that you might be a gentleman.”

“And that's not your lordship's only mistake,” Bishop cut in. “You made a worse when you gave him the King's commission, and so sheltered the rascal from the gallows I had prepared for him in Port Royal.”

“Aye—but the worst mistake of all in this matter of commissions,” said Blood to his lordship, “was the one that trade this greasy slaver Deputy-Governor of Jamaica instead of its hangman, which is the office for which he's by nature fitted.”

“Captain Blood!” said his lordship sharply in reproof. “Upon my soul and honour, sir, you go much too far. You are....”

But here Bishop interrupted him. He had heaved himself to his feet, at last, and was venting his fury in unprintable abuse. Captain Blood, who had also risen, stood apparently impassive, for the storm to spend itself. When at last this happened, he addressed himself quietly to Lord Julian, as if Colonel Bishop had not spoken.

“Your lordship was about to say?” he asked, with challenging smoothness.

But his lordship had by now recovered his habitual composure, and was again disposed to be conciliatory. He laughed and shrugged.

“Faith! here's a deal of unnecessary heat,” said he. “And God knows this plaguey climate provides enough of that. Perhaps, Colonel Bishop, you are a little uncompromising; and you, sir, are certainly a deal too peppery. I have said, speaking on behalf of my Lord Sunderland, that I am content to await the result of your experiment.”

But Bishop's fury had by now reached a stage in which it was not to be restrained.

“Are you, indeed?” he roared. “Well, then, I am not. This is a matter in which your lordship must allow me to be the better judge. And, anyhow, I'll take the risk of acting on my own responsibility.”

Lord Julian abandoned the struggle. He smiled wearily, shrugged, and waved a hand in implied resignation. The Deputy-Governor stormed on.

“Since my lord here has given you a commission, I can't regularly deal with you out of hand for piracy as you deserve. But you shall answer before a court-martial for your action in the matter of Wolverstone, and take the consequences.”

“I see,” said Blood. “Now we come to it. And it's yourself as Deputy-Governor will preside over that same court-martial. So that ye can wipe off old scores by hanging me, it's little ye care how ye do it!” He laughed, and added: “Praemonitus, praemunitus.”

“What shall that mean?” quoth Lord Julian sharply.

“I had imagined that your lordship would have had some education.”

He was at pains, you see, to be provocative.

“It's not the literal meaning I am asking, sir,” said Lord Julian, with frosty dignity. “I want to know what you desire me to understand?”

“I'll leave your lordship guessing,” said Blood. “And I'll be wishing ye both a very good day.” He swept off his feathered hat, and made them a leg very elegantly.

“Before you go,” said Bishop, “and to save you from any idle rashness, I'll tell you that the Harbour-Master and the Commandant have their orders. You don't leave Port Royal, my fine gallows bird. Damme, I mean to provide you with permanent moorings here, in Execution Dock.”

Peter Blood stiffened, and his vivid blue eyes stabbed the bloated face of his enemy. He passed his long cane into his left hand, and with his right thrust negligently into the breast of his doublet, he swung to Lord Julian, who was thoughtfully frowning.

“Your lordship, I think, promised me immunity from this.”

“What I may have promised,” said his lordship, “your own conduct makes it difficult to perform.” He rose. “You did me a service, Captain Blood, and I had hoped that we might be friends. But since you prefer to have it otherwise....” He shrugged, and waved a hand towards the Deputy-Governor.

Blood completed the sentence in his own way:

“Ye mean that ye haven't the strength of character to resist the urgings of a bully.” He was apparently at his ease, and actually smiling. “Well, well—as I said before—praemonitus, praemunitus. I'm afraid that ye're no scholar, Bishop, or ye'd know that I means forewarned, forearmed.”

“Forewarned? Ha!” Bishop almost snarled. “The warning comes a little late. You do not leave this house.” He took a step in the direction of the doorway, and raised his voice. “Ho there...” he was beginning to call.

Then with a sudden audible catch in his breath, he stopped short. Captain Blood's right hand had reemerged from the breast of his doublet, bringing with it a long pistol with silver mountings richly chased, which he levelled within a foot of the Deputy-Governor's head.

“And forearmed,” said he. “Don't stir from where you are, my lord, or there may be an accident.”

And my lord, who had been moving to Bishop's assistance,

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