“According to the established usages of that portion of the world which, having the power, oppresses the remainder, it did. Go, sir; rejoin your proper ship; I repeat, you are free.”
“I cannot leave you, Captain Heidegger without one word of justification.”
“What! can the hunted, denounced, and condemned freebooter command an explanation! Is even his good opinion necessary to a virtuous servant of the Crown!”
“Use such terms of triumph and reproach as suit your pleasure, sir,” returned the other, reddening to the temples as he spoke; “to me your language can now convey no offence; still would I not leave you without removing part of the odium which you think I merit.”
“Speak freely. Sir, you are my guest.”
Although the most cutting revilings could not have wounded the repentant Wilder so deeply as this generous conduct, he so far subdued his feelings as to continue,—
“You are not now to learn,” he said, “that vulgar rumour has given a colour to your conduct and character which is not of a quality to command the esteem of men.”
“You may find leisure to deepen the tints,” hastily interrupted his listener, though the emotion which trembled in his voice plainly denoted how deeply he felt the wound which was given by a world he affected to despise.
“If called upon to speak at all, my words shall be those of truth, Captain Heidegger. But is it surprising, that, filled with the ardour of a service that you once thought honourable yourself, I should be found willing to risk life, and even to play the hypocrite in order to achieve an object that would not only have been rewarded, but approved, had it been successful? With such sentiments I embarked on the enterprise; but, as Heaven is my judge, your manly confidence had half disarmed me before my foot had hardly crossed your threshold.”
“And yet you turned not back?”