Rivarol glared at them, checkmated.

“In effect...”  M. de Cussy was beginning timidly.

“In effect, monsieur, this is your doing,” the Baron flashed on him, glad to have some one upon whom he could fasten the sharp fangs of his irritation.  “You should be broke for it.  You bring the King’s service into disrepute; you force me, His Majesty’s representative, into an impossible position.”

“Is it impossible to award us the one-fifth share?” quoth Captain Blood silkily.  “In that case, there is no need for beat or for injuries to M. de Cussy.  M. de Cussy knows that we would not have come for less.  We depart again upon your assurance that you cannot award us more.  And things are as they would have been if M. de Cussy had adhered rigidly to his instructions.  I have proved, I hope, to your satisfaction, M. le Baron, that if you repudiate the articles you can neither claim our services nor hinder our departure — not in honour.”

“Not in honour, sir?  To the devil with your insolence!  Do you imply that any course that were not in honour would be possible to me?”

“I do not imply it, because it would not be possible,” said Captain Blood.  “We should see to that.  It is, my General, for you to say whether the articles are repudiated.”

The Baron sat down.  “I will consider the matter,” he said sullenly.  “You shall be advised of my resolve.”

Captain Blood rose, his officers rose with him.  Captain Blood bowed.

“M. le Baron!” said he.

Then he and his buccaneers removed themselves from the August and irate presence of the General of the King’s Armies by Land and Sea in America.

You conceive that there followed for M. de Cussy an extremely bad quarter of an hour.  M. de Cussy, in fact, deserves your sympathy.  His self-sufficiency was blown from him by the haughty M. de Rivarol, as down from a thistle by the winds of autumn.  The General of the King’s Armies abused him — this man who was Governor of Hispaniola — as if he were a lackey.  M. de Cussy defended himself by urging the thing that Captain Blood had so admirably urged already on his behalf — that if the terms he had made with the buccaneers were not confirmed there was no harm done.  M. de Rivarol bullied and browbeat him into silence.

Having exhausted abuse, the Baron proceeded to indignities.  Since he accounted that M. de Cussy had proved himself unworthy of the post he held, M. de Rivarol took over the responsibilities of that post for as long as he might remain in Hispaniola, and to give effect to this he began by bringing soldiers from his ships, and setting his own guard in M. de Cussy’s castle.

Out of this, trouble followed quickly.  Wolverstone coming ashore next morning in the picturesque garb that he affected, his head swathed in a coloured handkerchief, was jeered at by an officer of the newly landed French troops.  Not accustomed to derision, Wolverstone replied in kind and with interest.  The officer passed to insult, and Wolverstone struck him a blow that felled him, and left him only the half of his poor senses.  Within the hour the matter was reported to M. de Rivarol, and before noon, by M. de Rivarol’s orders, Wolverstone was under arrest in the castle.