It was a courteous, conciliatory speech. Urged by friendliness towards Blood and understanding of the difficult position in which the buccaneer found himself, his lordship was disposed to take his stand upon the letter of his instructions. Therefore he now held out a friendly hand to help him over the latest and most difficult obstacle which Blood himself had enabled Bishop to place in the way of his redemption. Unfortunately the last person from whom Peter Blood desired assistance at that moment was this young nobleman, whom he regarded with the jaundiced eyes of jealousy.
“Anyway,” he answered, with a suggestion of defiance and more than a suggestion of a sneer, “it's the most ye should expect from me, and certainly it's the most ye'll get.”
His lordship frowned, and dabbed his lips with a handkerchief.
“I don't think that I quite like the way you put it. Indeed, upon reflection, Captain Blood, I am sure that I do not.”
“I am sorry for that, so I am,” said Blood impudently. “But there it is. I'm not on that account concerned to modify it.”
His lordship's pale eyes opened a little wider. Languidly he raised his eyebrows.
“Ah!” he said. “You're a prodigiously uncivil fellow. You disappoint me, sir. I had formed the notion that you might be a gentleman.”
“And that's not your lordship's only mistake,” Bishop cut in. “You made a worse when you gave him the King's commission, and so sheltered the rascal from the gallows I had prepared for him in Port Royal.”
“Aye—but the worst mistake of all in this matter of commissions,” said Blood to his lordship, “was the one that trade this greasy slaver Deputy-Governor of Jamaica instead of its hangman, which is the office for which he's by nature fitted.”
“Captain Blood!” said his lordship sharply in reproof. “Upon my soul and honour, sir, you go much too far. You are....”