Nicholas. Each could tell the other much upon which the other
desired information. He could regale her imagination with stories
of St. James's - in many of which he assigned himself a heroic, or
at least a distinguished part - and she could enrich his mind with
information concerning this new world to which he had come.
Before they were out of sight of St. Nicholas they were good friends,
and his lordship was beginning to correct his first impressions of
her and to discover the charm of that frank, straightforward attitude
of comradeship which made her treat every man as a brother.
Considering how his mind was obsessed with the business of his
mission, it is not wonderful that he should have come to talk to her
of Captain Blood. Indeed, there was a circumstance that directly
led to it.
"I wonder now," he said, as they were sauntering on the poop, "if
you ever saw this fellow Blood, who was at one time on your uncle's
plantations as a slave."
Miss Bishop halted. She leaned upon the taffrail, looking out
towards the receding land, and it was a moment before she answered
in a steady, level voice:
"I saw him often.
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