“I’ll leave your lordship guessing,” said Blood.  “And I’ll be wishing ye both a very good day.”  He swept off his feathered hat, and made them a leg very elegantly.

“Before you go,” said Bishop, “and to save you from any idle rashness, I’ll tell you that the Harbour-Master and the Commandant have their orders.  You don’t leave Port Royal, my fine gallows bird.  Damme, I mean to provide you with permanent moorings here, in Execution Dock.”

Peter Blood stiffened, and his vivid blue eyes stabbed the bloated face of his enemy.  He passed his long cane into his left hand, and with his right thrust negligently into the breast of his doublet, he swung to Lord Julian, who was thoughtfully frowning.

“Your lordship, I think, promised me immunity from this.”

“What I may have promised,” said his lordship, “your own conduct makes it difficult to perform.”  He rose.  “You did me a service, Captain Blood, and I had hoped that we might be friends.  But since you prefer to have it otherwise....”  He shrugged, and waved a hand towards the Deputy-Governor.

Blood completed the sentence in his own way: 

“Ye mean that ye haven’t the strength of character to resist the urgings of a bully.”  He was apparently at his ease, and actually smiling.  “Well, well — as I said before — praemonitus, praemunitus.  I’m afraid that ye’re no scholar, Bishop, or ye’d know that I means forewarned, forearmed.”

“Forewarned?  Ha!” Bishop almost snarled.  “The warning comes a little late.  You do not leave this house.”  He took a step in the direction of the doorway, and raised his voice.  “Ho there...” he was beginning to call.

Then with a sudden audible catch in his breath, he stopped short.  Captain Blood’s right hand had reemerged from the breast of his doublet, bringing with it a long pistol with silver mountings richly chased, which he levelled within a foot of the Deputy-Governor’s head.

“And forearmed,” said he.  “Don’t stir from where you are, my lord, or there may be an accident.”

And my lord, who had been moving to Bishop’s assistance, stood instantly arrested.  Chap-fallen, with much of his high colour suddenly departed, the Deputy-Governor was swaying on unsteady legs.  Peter Blood considered him with a grimness that increased his panic.

“I marvel that I don’t pistol you without more ado, ye fat blackguard.  If I don’t, it’s for the same reason that once before I gave ye your life when it was forfeit.  Ye’re not aware of the reason, to be sure; but it may comfort ye to know that it exists.  At the same time I’ll warn ye not to put too heavy a strain on my generosity, which resides at the moment in my trigger-finger.  Ye mean to hang me, and since that’s the worst that can happen to me anyway, you’ll realize that I’ll not boggle at increasing the account by spilling your nasty blood.”  He cast his cane from him, thus disengaging his left hand.  “Be good enough to give me your arm, Colonel Bishop.  Come, come, man, your arm.”