He beheld himself to be
as the dog in the fable that had dropped the substance to snatch
at a delusive shadow.
He sought comfort in a line on the open page before him:
"levius fit patientia quicquid corrigere est nefas."
Sought it, but hardly found it.
A boat that had approached unnoticed from the shore came scraping
and bumping against the great red hull of the Arabella, and a
raucous voice sent up a hailing shout. From the ship's belfry
two silvery notes rang clear and sharp, and a moment or two later
the bo'sun's whistle shrilled a long wail.
The sounds disturbed Captain Blood from his disgruntled musings.
He rose, tall, active, and arrestingly elegant in a scarlet,
gold-laced coat that advertised his new position, and slipping
the slender volume into his pocket, advanced to the carved rail
of the quarter-deck, just as Jeremy Pitt was setting foot upon
the companion.
"A note for you from the Deputy-Governor," said the master shortly,
as he proffered a folded sheet.
Blood broke the seal, and read. Pitt, loosely clad in shirt and
breeches, leaned against the rail the while and watched him,
unmistakable concern imprinted on his fair, frank countenance.
Pages:
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445