The subject was not raised again, and Captain Blood was left to his idle abstraction.
But at last, as his buccaneers were growing desperate, something happened, brought about by the Captain's friend M.d'Ogeron.

One sunny morning the Governor of Tortuga came aboard the Arabella, accompanied by a chubby little gentleman, amiable of countenance, amiable and self-sufficient of manner.
"My Captain," M.d'Ogeron delivered himself, "I bring you M.de Cussy, the Governor of French Hispaniola, who desires a word with you." Out of consideration for his friend, Captain Blood pulled the pipe from his mouth, shook some of the rum out of his wits, and rose and made a leg to M.de Cussy.
"Serviteur!" said he.
M.de Cussy returned the bow and accepted a seat on the locker under the stem windows.
"You have a good force here under your command, my Captain," said he.
"Some eight hundred men." "And I understand they grow restive in idleness." "They may go to the devil when they please." M.de Cussy took snuff delicately.

"I have something better than that to propose," said he.
"Propose it, then," said Blood, without interest.
M.de Cussy looked at M.d'Ogeron, and raised his eyebrows a little.
He did not find Captain Blood encouraging.

But M.d'Ogeron nodded vigorously with pursed lips, and the Governor of Hispaniola propounded his business.
"News has reached us from France that there is war with Spain." "That is news, is it ?" growled Blood.
"I am speaking officially, my Captain.

I am not alluding to unofficial skirmishes, and unofficial predatory measures which we have condoned out here.