Softly Blood's voice cut into the pause. 'I might be able, Sir James, to lift you from the horns of this dilemma.' And he went on to explain himself. 'You'll remember that it was to buy a cabin–boy I landed here. I had thought of a negro; but this Hagthorpe seems a likely lad. Sell him to me, and I'll take him off your hands.'
The elderly man considered a moment, and his gloom was seen to lighten a little. 'Egad! It's a solution.'
'You have but to name your price, then, Sir James.'
But her ladyship was there with her spite to close that easy exit.
'What next? The man's a rebel–convict, doomed for life to service in the plantations. You have a clear duty. You dare not be a party to his leaving the West Indies.'
In the troubled hesitation of that irresolute man, Blood saw that all was not yet done, as he had hoped. Cursing the spite of the lovely termagant, he advanced to the foot of the table, and, folding his arms on the tall back of the chair that stood there, he looked grimly from one to other of them.
'Well, well!' said he. 'And so this unfortunate lad is to be flogged.'
'He's to be hanged,' her ladyship corrected.
'No, no,' Sir James protested. 'A flogging will suffice.'
'I see that I can do no more,' said Blood, and his manner became ironically smooth. 'So I'll take my leave. But before I go, Sir James, there's something I'd almost forgot. I found a cousin of yours at St Thomas who was in haste to get to Nevis.'