“You did! Ha!” His lordship looked at the cringing jury and uttered a short, stabbing laugh. “Yet in spite of that you went with him?”
“To succour a wounded man, as was my sacred duty.”
“Thy sacred duty, sayest thou?” Fury blazed out of him again. “Good God! What a generation of vipers do we live in! Thy sacred duty, rogue, is to thy King and to God. But let it pass. Did he tell you whom it was that you were desired to succour?”
“Lord Gildoy—yes.”
“And you knew that Lord Gildoy had been wounded in the battle, and on what side he fought?”
“I knew.”
“And yet, being, as you would have us believe, a true and loyal subject of our Lord the King, you went to succour him?”
Peter Blood lost patience for a moment. “My business, my lord, was with his wounds, not with his politics.”
A murmur from the galleries and even from the jury approved him. It served only to drive his terrible judge into a deeper fury.
“Jesus God! Was there ever such an impudent villain in the world as thou?” He swung, white-faced, to the jury. “I hope, gentlemen of the jury, you take notice of the horrible carriage of this traitor rogue, and withal you cannot but observe the spirit of this sort of people, what a villainous and devilish one it is. Out of his own mouth he has said enough to hang him a dozen times. Yet is there more. Answer me this, sir: When you cozened Captain Hobart with your lies concerning the station of this other traitor Pitt, what was your business then?”