He followed her, his mind too full of Captain Blood to be concerned just then with her movements.
In the cabin he flung into a chair, and exploded, with a violence altogether foreign to his nature.
"Damme if ever I met a man I liked better, or even a man I liked as well.

Yet there's nothing to be done with him." "So I heard," she admitted in a small voice.

She was very white, and she kept her eyes upon her folded hands.
He looked up in surprise, and then sat conning her with brooding glance.
"I wonder, now," he said presently, "if the mischief is of your working.
Your words have rankled with him.

He threw them at me again and again.
He wouldn't take the King's commission; he wouldn't take my hand even.
What's to be done with a fellow like that?
He'll end on a yardarm for all his luck.

And the quixotic fool is running into danger at the present moment on our behalf." "How ?" she asked him with a sudden startled interest.
"How?
Have you forgotten that he's sailing to Jamaica, and that Jamaica is the headquarters of the English fleet?
True, your uncle commands it...." She leaned across the table to interrupt him, and he observed that her breathing had grown labored, that her eyes were dilating in alarm.
"But there is no hope for him in that!" she cried.