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There is Mr. Crabston, for instance, up at Speightstown. He was
there on the mole, waiting to buy my uncle's leavings, and if you
had fallen into his hands ... A dreadful man. That is why."
He was a little bewildered.
"This interest in a stranger ..." he began. Then changed the
direction of his probe. "But there were others as deserving of
commiseration."
"You did not seem quite like the others."
"I am not," said he.
"Oh!" She stared at him, bridling a little. "You have a good
opinion of yourself."
"On the contrary. The others are all worthy rebels. I am not.
That is the difference. I was one who had not the wit to see that
England requires purifying. I was content to pursue a doctor's
trade in Bridgewater whilst my betters were shedding their blood
to drive out an unclean tyrant and his rascally crew."
"Sir!" she checked him. "I think you are talking treason."
"I hope I am not obscure," said he.
"There are those here who would have you flogged if they heard you."
"The Governor would never allow it.


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