He felt that he was doing better,
and gathered from it an almost childish satisfaction - childish in
all the circumstances. "Decidedly I think I had the last word
there," he said, with a toss of his golden ringlets.
Miss Bishop, seated at the cabin-table, looked at him steadily,
without returning his smile. "Does it matter, then, so much, having
the last word? I am thinking of those poor fellows on the Royal
Mary. Many of them have had their last word, indeed. And for what?
A fine ship sunk, a score of lives lost, thrice that number now in
jeopardy, and all for what?"
"You are overwrought, ma'am. I...."
"Overwrought!" She uttered a single sharp note of laughter. "I
assure you I am calm. I am asking you a question, Lord Julian.
Why has this Spaniard done all this? To what purpose?"
"You heard him." Lord Julian shrugged angrily. "Blood-lust," he
explained shortly.
"Blood-lust?" she asked. She was amazed. "Does such a thing exist,
then? It is insane, monstrous."
"Fiendish," his lordship agreed. "Devil's work.
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