"
M. de Rivarol bit his lip in chagrin. His gloomy eye smouldered as
it considered the self-contained buccaneer.
"But if I command you to go - to make the attempt?" he asked.
"Answer me, monsieur, let us know once for all where we stand,
and who commands this expedition."
"Positively, I find you tiresome," said Captain Blood, and he
swung to M. de Cussy, who sat there gnawing his lip, intensely
uncomfortable. "I appeal to you, monsieur, to justify me to the
General."
M. de Cussy started out of his gloomy abstraction. He cleared his
throat. He was extremely nervous.
"In view of what Captain Blood has submitted...."
"Oh, to the devil with that!" snapped Rivarol. "It seems that I am
followed by poltroons. Look you, M. le Capitaine, since you are
afraid to undertake this thing, I will myself undertake it. The
weather is calm, and I count upon making good my landing. If I do
so, I shall have proved you wrong, and I shall have a word to say to
you to-morrow which you may not like. I am being very generous with
you, sir.
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