“I am a physician practising my calling in the town of Bridgewater.”
The Captain sneered. “Which you reached by way of Lyme Regis in the following of your bastard Duke.”
It was Mr. Blood's turn to sneer. “If your wit were as big as your voice, my dear, it's the great man you'd be by this.”
For a moment the dragoon was speechless. The colour deepened in his face.
“You may find me great enough to hang you.”
“Faith, yes. Ye've the look and the manners of a hangman. But if you practise your trade on my patient here, you may be putting a rope round your own neck. He's not the kind you may string up and no questions asked. He has the right to trial, and the right to trial by his peers.”
“By his peers?”
The Captain was taken aback by these three words, which Mr. Blood had stressed.
“Sure, now, any but a fool or a savage would have asked his name before ordering him to the gallows. The gentleman is my Lord Gildoy.”
And then his lordship spoke for himself, in a weak voice.