It was Lord Julian who answered:
“It will go very hard with him if he attempts to flout the King’s authority. And though he should dare attempt it, be sure that his own officers will not dare to do other than oppose him.”
“Aye,” said Ogle, “that is true.”
But there were some who were still in open and frank revolt against the course. Of these was Wolverstone, who at once proclaimed his hostility.
“I’ll rot in hell or ever I serves the King,” he bawled in a great rage.
But Blood quieted him and those who thought as he did.
“No man need follow me into the King’s service who is reluctant. That is not in the bargain. What is in the bargain is that I accept this service with such of you as may choose to follow me. Don’t think I accept it willingly. For myself, I am entirely of Wolverstone’s opinion. I accept it as the only way to save us all from the certain destruction into which my own act may have brought us. And even those of you who do not choose to follow me shall share the immunity of all, and shall afterwards be free to depart. Those are the terms upon which I sell myself to the King. Let Lord Julian, the representative of the Secretary of State, say whether he agrees to them.”
Prompt, eager, and clear came his lordship’s agreement. And that was practically the end of the matter. Lord Julian, the butt now of good-humouredly ribald jests and half-derisive acclamations, plunged away to his cabin for the commission, secretly rejoicing at a turn of events which enabled him so creditably to discharge the business on which he had been sent.
Meanwhile the bo’sun signalled to the Jamaica ships to send a boat, and the men in the waist broke their ranks and went noisily flocking to line the bulwarks and view the great stately vessels that were racing down towards them.
As Ogle left the quarter-deck, Blood turned, and came face to face with Miss Bishop. She had been observing him with shining eyes, but at sight of his dejected countenance, and the deep frown that scarred his brow, her own expression changed. She approached him with a hesitation entirely unusual to her. She set a hand lightly upon his arm.
“You have chosen wisely, sir,” she commended him, “however much against your inclinations.”
He looked with gloomy eyes upon her for whom he had made this sacrifice.
“I owed it to you — or thought I did,” he said.
She did not understand. “Your resolve delivered me from a horrible danger,” she admitted. And she shivered at the memory of it. “But I do not understand why you should have hesitated when first it was proposed to you. It is an honourable service.”
“King James’s?” he sneered.
“England’s,” she corrected him in reproof. “The country is all, sir; the sovereign naught. King James will pass; others will come and pass; England remains, to be honourably served by her sons, whatever rancour they may hold against the man who rules her in their time.”