Abruptly his manner changed.

He was like one recovering, taking himself in hand again.

"If you will go below, and get your gear and your woman, you shall presently be sent aboard one of the ships of the fleet." He pointed to the boat as he spoke.
She left him, and thereafter with Wolverstone, leaning upon the rail, he watched the approach of that boat, manned by a dozen sailors, and commanded by a scarlet figure seated stiffly in the stern sheets.

He levelled his telescope upon that figure.
"It'll not be Bishop himself," said Wolverstone, between question and assertion.
"No." Blood closed his telescope.

"I don't know who it is." "Ha!" Wolverstone vented an ejaculation of sneering mirth.