d 'accept
this poxy commission,' says I; 'turn King's man and save your neck and
ours.' He took me at my word, and the London pimp gave him the King's
commission on the spot, and Bishop all but choked hisself with rage when
he was told of it. But happened it had, and he was forced to swallow
it. We were King's men all, and so into Port Royal we sailed along
o' Bishop. But Bishop didn't trust us. He knew too much. But for his
lordship, the fellow from London, he'd ha' hanged the Captain, King's
commission and all. Blood would ha' slipped out o' Port Royal again that
same night. But that hound Bishop had passed the word, and the fort kept
a sharp lookout. In the end, though it took a fortnight, Blood bubbled
him. He sent me and most o' the men off in a frigate that I bought for
the voyage. His game--as he'd secretly told me--was to follow and give
chase. Whether that's the game he played or not I can't tell ye; but
here he is afore me as I'd expected he would be."

There was a great historian lost in Wolverstone. He had the right
imagination that knows just how far it is safe to stray from the truth
and just how far to colour it so as to change its shape for his own
purposes.

Having delivered himself of his decoction of fact and falsehood, and
thereby added one more to the exploits of Peter Blood, he enquired
where the Captain might be found. Being informed that he kept his ship,
Wolverstone stepped into a boat and went aboard, to report himself, as
he put it.

In the great cabin of the Arabella he found Peter Blood alone and very
far gone in drink--a condition in which no man ever before remembered to
have seen him. As Wolverstone came in, the Captain raised bloodshot eyes
to consider him. A moment they sharpened in their gaze as he brought
his visitor into focus. Then he laughed, a loose, idiot laugh, that yet
somehow was half a sneer.

"Ah! The Old Wolf!" said he. "Got here at last, eh? And whatcher
gonnerdo wi' me, eh?" He hiccoughed resoundingly, and sagged back
loosely in his chair.

Old Wolverstone stared at him in sombre silence. He had looked with
untroubled eye upon many a hell of devilment in his time, but the sight
of Captain Blood in this condition filled him with sudden grief. To
express it he loosed an oath. It was his only expression for emotion
of all kinds. Then he rolled forward, and dropped into a chair at the
table, facing the Captain.

"My God, Peter, what's this?"

"Rum," said Peter. "Rum