He found him in the offices which the Baron had set up in the town, with a staff of clerks to register the treasure brought in and to cast up the surrendered account-books, with a view to ascertaining precisely what were the sums yet to be delivered up.  The Baron sat there scrutinizing ledgers, like a city merchant, and checking figures to make sure that all was correct to the last peso.  A choice occupation this for the General of the King’s Armies by Sea and Land.  He looked up irritated by the interruption which Captain Blood’s advent occasioned.

“M. le Baron,” the latter greeted him.  “I must speak frankly; and you must suffer it.  My men are on the point of mutiny.”

M. de Rivarol considered him with a faint lift of the eyebrows.

“Captain Blood, I, too, will speak frankly; and you, too, must suffer it.  If there is a mutiny, you and your captains shall be held personally responsible.  The mistake you make is in assuming with me the tone of an ally, whereas I have given you clearly to understand from the first that you are simply in the position of having accepted service under me.  Your proper apprehension of that fact will save the waste of a deal of words.”

Blood contained himself with difficulty.  One of these fine days, he felt, that for the sake of humanity he must slit the comb of this supercilious, arrogant cockerel.

“You may define our positions as you please,” said he.  “But I’ll remind you that the nature of a thing is not changed by the name you give it.  I am concerned with facts; chiefly with the fact that we entered into definite articles with you.  Those articles provide for a certain distribution of the spoil.  My men demand it.  They are not satisfied.”

“Of what are they not satisfied?” demanded the Baron.

“Of your honesty, M. de Rivarol.”

A blow in the face could scarcely have taken the Frenchman more aback.  He stiffened, and drew himself up, his eyes blazing, his face of a deathly pallor.  The clerks at the tables laid down their pens, and awaited the explosion in a sort of terror.

For a long moment there was silence.  Then the great gentleman delivered himself in a voice of concentrated anger.  “Do you really dare so much, you and the dirty thieves that follow you?  God’s Blood!  You shall answer to me for that word, though it entail a yet worse dishonour to meet you.  Faugh!”

“I will remind you,” said Blood, “that I am speaking not for myself, but for my men.  It is they who are not satisfied, they who threaten that unless satisfaction is afforded them, and promptly, they will take it.”

“Take it?” said Rivarol, trembling in his rage.  “Let them attempt it, and....”

“Now don’t be rash.  My men are within their rights, as you are aware.  They demand to know when this sharing of the spoil is to take place, and when they are to receive the fifth for which their articles provide.”