Blood uttered a short laugh, and curled his lip. "It is a very
peremptory summons," he said, and passed the note to his friend.
The young master's grey eyes skimmed it. Thoughtfully he stroked
his golden beard.
"You'll not go?" he said, between question and assertion.
"Why not? Haven't I been a daily visitor at the fort...?"
"But it'll be about the Old Wolf that he wants to see you. It gives
him a grievance at last. You know, Peter, that it is Lord Julian
alone has stood between Bishop and his hate of you. If now he can
show that...."
"What if he can?" Blood interrupted carelessly. "Shall I be in
greater danger ashore than aboard, now that we've but fifty men
left, and they lukewarm rogues who would as soon serve the King as
me? Jeremy, dear lad, the Arabella's a prisoner here, bedad, 'twixt
the fort there and the fleet yonder. Don't be forgetting that."
Jeremy clenched his hands. "Why did ye let Wolverstone and the
others go?" he cried, with a touch of bitterness. "You should have
seen the danger.
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