The Admiral raised his brows and pursed his heavy lips. His eyes
twinkled humourously in his great face.
"So!" he said. "Fery boedical!"
My lord wheeled fiercely upon Captain Blood. "You've a past score
to wipe out, my man!" he admonished him. "You've done something
towards it, I confess; and you've shown your quality in doing it.
That's why I offer you the governorship of Jamaica in His Majesty's
name - because I account you the fittest man for the office that I
have seen."
Blood bowed low. "Your lordship is very good. But...."
"Tchah! There's no 'but' to it. If you want your past forgotten,
and your future assured, this is your chance. And you are not to
treat it lightly on account of apple-blossoms or any other damned
sentimental nonsense. Your duty lies here, at least for as long
as the war lasts. When the war's over, you may get back to Somerset
and cider or your native Ireland and its potheen; but until then
you'll make the best of Jamaica and rum."
Van der Kuylen exploded into laughter. But from Blood the
pleasantry elicited no smile.
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