«Honour! Bah! I'm just a pirate. It's because I don't think she is good enough for Mr. Pitt, as I told him from the outset, and as I hope he now believes.»
That was all the revenge he took of Monsieur d'Ogeron for his foxy part in the affair. Having taken it, he departed, and the stricken Jeremy suffered himself to be led away.
But by the time they had reached the mole the lads numbness had given place to rage. He had been duped and tricked, his very life had been put in pawn to serve the schemes of those others, and somebody must pay.
«If ever I meet Monsieur de Mercceur…» he was raging.
«You'll do fine things,» the Captain mocked him. «I'll serve him as I served that dog Tondeur.» And now Captain Blood stood still that he might laugh.
«Oh! It's the fine swordsman ye've become all at once, Jerry. The very butcher of a silk button. I'd best be disillusioning you, my young Tybalt, before ye swagger into mischief.»
«Disillusioning me?» Jeremy stared at him, a frown darkening that fair, honest face. «Did I, or did I not, lay low that French duellist yesterday?»
And Blood, still laughing, answered him: «You did not!»
«I did not? I did not?» Jeremy set his arms akimbo. «Well ye tell me, then, who did?»
«I did,» said the Captain, and on that grew serious. «I did it with the bright bottom of a brass candlestick. I flashed enough reflected sunlight into his eyes to blind him whilst you were doing the business.»