“Little else than abuse, your honour,” returned Berkenhead, “and a threat that I would be beat over the head if I didn't hold my tongue; and as I didn't care to converse at such a disadvantage, I was e'en content to keep my own counsel for the rest of the way.”
“Do you, or do you not, consider Bacon and his followers to be engaged in rebellion against the government?”
“Rebellion, your honour!” cried the renegade. “Why, was it not your honour's self that sent us after these salvages? An' I thought there was any other design afloat, I would soon show them who was the rebel. It is not the first time that I have done the State some service by betraying treason.”
“Look ye,” said the Governor, eyeing the fellow keenly, “if I mistake not, you are an old acquaintance. Is your name Berkenhead?”
“The same, at your honour's service.”
“And didn't you betray the servile plot of 1662, and get your liberty and a reward for it?”
“Yes, your honour, but I wouldn't have you think that it was for the reward I did it?”
“Oh, never mind your motives. If you are Judas, you are welcome to your thirty pieces of silver,” said the Governor, with a sneer of contempt. “But to make the analogy complete, you should be hanged for your service.”
“No, faith,” said the shrewd villain, quickly. “Judas hanged himself, and it would be long ere ever I sought the apostle's elder tree.[41] And besides, his was the price of innocent blood, and mine was not. Look at my hand, your honour, and you will see what kind of blood I shed.”
Berkeley looked at the fellow's hand, and saw it stained with the crimson life-blood of the young Indian. With a thrill of horror, he cried, “What blood is that, you infernal villain?”