“Invincible against the new Western republic?”
“If the Western settlements treated us wrongly. Certainly.”
“What if you should decide we were treating you unjustly, when, as a matter of truth, we were treating you fairly?”
“Spain would easily adjust any such differences.”
“But, knowing you could defy Spain, would you permit her to settle disputes in our favour?”
For the first time during their interview McGillivray completely lost control of himself. Leaping up, he struck the table and overturned the wine. Kicking over his chair, he began raging from one end of the room to the other, his dark face furious with passion. Sevier replaced the decanter and rescued a book from a puddle of wine. Gradually McGillivray’s emotion subsided. Returning to the table, he righted his chair and sank into it, staring gloomily at Sevier.
“Do you know,” he softly began, “you have been in great danger. You have the quality of making men like you to an unusual extent. You also have the knack of maddening men. For the moment my Creek streak told me to kill you. I am glad I did not give in to it.”
“So am I,” said Sevier, pulling a pistol from the breast of his hunting-shirt. “For I should have acted on an impulse, perhaps, and defended myself.”
McGillivray’s eyes half closed as he watched Sevier twirl the pistol.
“You came in here to have wine and cakes,” he murmured. “And you brought a deadly weapon with you.”