..."
Wolverstone's horse-laugh interrupted him. "Hark to the gentleman!"
he mocked. "Ye don't know Colonel Bishop, that's clear. Not for
his niece, not for his daughter, not for his own mother, would he
forgo the blood what he thinks due to him. A drinker of blood, he
is. A nasty beast. We knows, the Cap'n and me. We been his
slaves."
"But there is myself," said Lord Julian, with great dignity.
Wolverstone laughed again, whereat his lordship flushed. He was
moved to raise his voice above its usual languid level.
"I assure you that my word counts for something in England."
"Oh, aye - in England. But this ain't England, damme."
Came the roar of a second gun, and a round shot splashed the water
less than half a cable's-length astern. Blood leaned over the rail
to speak to the fair young man immediately below him by the helmsman
at the whipstaff.
"Bid them take in sail, Jeremy," he said quietly. "We lie to."
But Wolverstone interposed again.
"Hold there a moment, Jeremy!" he roared. "Wait!" He swung back
to face the Captain, who had placed a hand on is shoulder and was
smiling, a trifle wistfully.
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