But Bishop didn't trust us. He knew too
much. But for his lordship, the fellow from London, he'd ha' hanged
the Captain, King's commission and all. Blood would ha' slipped
out o' Port Royal again that same night. But that hound Bishop
had passed the word, and the fort kept a sharp lookout. In the end,
though it took a fortnight, Blood bubbled him. He sent me and most
o' the men off in a frigate that I bought for the voyage. His game
- as he'd secretly told me - was to follow and give chase. Whether
that's the game he played or not I can't tell ye; but here he is
afore me as I'd expected he would be."
There was a great historian lost in Wolverstone. He had the right
imagination that knows just how far it is safe to stray from the
truth and just how far to colour it so as to change its shape for
his own purposes.
Having delivered himself of his decoction of fact and falsehood,
and thereby added one more to the exploits of Peter Blood, he
enquired where the Captain might be found. Being informed that he
kept his ship, Wolverstone stepped into a boat and went aboard, to
report himself, as he put it.
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