"Was it you, then...?"
"Myself it was - myself and these, my good friends and yours."
Mr. Blood tossed back the fine lace from his wrist, to wave a hand
towards the file of men standing to attention there.
The Colonel looked more closely. "Gad's my life!" he crowed on a
note of foolish jubilation. "And it was with these fellows that you
took the Spaniard and turned the tables on those dogs! Oddswounds!
It was heroic!"
"Heroic, is it? Bedad, it's epic! Ye begin to perceive the breadth
and depth of my genius."
Colonel Bishop sat himself down on the hatch-coaming, took off his
broad hat, and mopped his brow.
"Y'amaze me!" he gasped. "On my soul, y'amaze me! To have recovered
the treasure and to have seized this fine ship and all she'll hold!
It will be something to set against the other losses we have suffered.
As Gad's my life, you deserve well for this."
"I am entirely of your opinion."
"Damme! You all deserve well, and damme, you shall find me grateful."
"That's as it should be," said Mr. Blood. "The question is how well
we deserve, and how grateful shall we find you?"
Colonel Bishop considered him.
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