Here the Commandant, who had been instructed to hold himself in readiness with the necessary men against the need to effect the arrest of Captain Blood, was amazed by the curious spectacle of the Deputy-Governor of Jamaica strolling forth arm in arm and apparently on the friendliest terms with the intended prisoner.

For as they went, Blood was chatting and laughing briskly.
They passed out of the gates unchallenged, and so came to the mole where the cock-boat from the Arabella was waiting.

They took their places side by side in the stern sheets, and were pulled away together, always very close and friendly, to the great red ship where Jeremy Pitt so anxiously awaited news.
You conceive the master's amazement to see the Deputy-Governor come toiling up the entrance ladder, with Blood following very close behind him.
"Sure, I walked into a trap, as ye feared, Jeremy," Blood hailed him.
"But I walked out again, and fetched the trapper with me.

He loves his life, does this fat rascal." Colonel Bishop stood in the waist, his great face blenched to the colour of clay, his mouth loose, almost afraid to look at the sturdy ruffians who lounged about the shot-rack on the main hatch.
Blood shouted an order to the bo'sun, who was leaning against the forecastle bulkhead.
"Throw me a rope with a running noose over the yardarm there, against the need of it.

Now, don't be alarming yourself, Colonel, darling.