Blood stared in surprise a moment; then yielded to laughter.

“He went, I suppose, before news reached him of the change of government at home, and the war with France?”

“He did not,” snapped Willoughby.  “He was informed of both, and also of my coming before he set out.”

“Oh, impossible!”

“So I should have thought.  But I have the information from a Major Mallard whom I found in Port Royal, apparently governing in this fool’s absence.”

“But is he mad, to leave his post at such a time?” Blood was amazed.

“Taking the whole fleet with him, pray remember, and leaving the place open to French attack.  That is the sort of Deputy-Governor that the late Government thought fit to appoint:  an epitome of its misrule, damme!  He leaves Port Royal unguarded save by a ramshackle fort that can be reduced to rubble in an hour.  Stab me!  It’s unbelievable!”

The lingering smile faded from Blood’s face.  “Is Rivarol aware of this?” he cried sharply.

It was the Dutch Admiral who answered him.  “Vould he go dere if he were not?  M. de Rivarol he take some of our men prisoners.  Berhabs dey dell him.  Berhabs he make dem tell.  Id is a great obbordunidy.”

His lordship snarled like a mountain-cat.  “That rascal Bishop shall answer for it with his head if there’s any mischief done through this desertion of his post.  What if it were deliberate, eh?  What if he is more knave than fool?  What if this is his way of serving King James, from whom he held his office?”

Captain Blood was generous.  “Hardly so much.  It was just vindictiveness that urged him.  It’s myself he’s hunting at Tortuga, my lord.  But, I’m thinking that while he’s about it, I’d best be looking after Jamaica for King William.”  He laughed, with more mirth than he had used in the last two months.

“Set a course for Port Royal, Jeremy, and make all speed.  We’ll be level yet with M. de Rivarol, and wipe off some other scores at the same time.”

Both Lord Willoughby and the Admiral were on their feet.

“But you are not equal to it, damme!” cried his lordship.  “Any one of the Frenchman’s three ships is a match for both yours, my man.”

“In guns — aye,” said Blood, and he smiled.  “But there’s more than guns that matter in these affairs.  If your lordship would like to see an action fought at sea as an action should be fought, this is your opportunity.”

Both stared at him.  “But the odds!” his lordship insisted.

“Id is imbossible,” said van der Kuylen, shaking his great head.  “Seamanship is imbordand.  Bud guns is guns.”

“If I can’t defeat him, I can sink my own ships in the channel, and block him in until Bishop gets back from his wild-goose chase with his squadron, or until your own fleet turns up.”

“And what good will that be, pray?” demanded Willoughby.