Tangiers, after all, it seems, where your regiment belongs."

The Captain considered him with a kindling eye. He looked him over from
the soles of his riding-boots to the crown of his periwig. He noted
the spare, active frame, the arrogant poise of the head, the air of
authority that invested Mr. Blood, and soldier recognized soldier. The
Captain's eyes narrowed. Recognition went further.

"Who the hell may you be?" he exploded.

"My name is Blood, sir--Peter Blood, at your service."

"Aye--aye! Codso! That's the name. You were in French service once, were
you not?"

If Mr. Blood was surprised, he did not betray it.

"I was."

"Then I remember you--five years ago, or more, you were in Tangiers."

"That is so. I knew your colonel."

"Faith, you may be renewing the acquaintance." The Captain laughed
unpleasantly. "What brings you here, sir?"

"This wounded gentleman. I was fetched to attend him. I am a medicus."

"A doctor--you?" Scorn of that lie--as he conceived it--rang in the
heavy, hectoring voice.

"Medicinae baccalaureus," said Mr. Blood.

"Don't fling your French at me, man," snapped Hobart. "Speak English!"

Mr. Blood's smile annoyed him.

"I am a physician practising my calling in the town of Bridgewater."

The Captain sneered. "Which you reached by way of Lyme Regis in the
following of your bastard Duke."

It was Mr. Blood's turn to sneer. "If your wit were as big as your
voice, my dear, it's the great man you'd be by this."

For a moment the dragoon was speechless. The colour deepened in his
face.

"You may find me great enough to hang you."

"Faith, yes. Ye've the look and the manners of a hangman. But if you
practise your trade on my patient here, you may be putting a rope round
your own neck. He's not the kind you may string up and no questions
asked. He has the right to trial, and the right to trial by his peers."

"By his peers?"

The Captain was taken aback by these three words, which Mr. Blood had
stressed.

"Sure, now, any but a fool or a savage would have asked his name before
ordering him to the gallows. The gentleman is my Lord Gildoy."

And then his lordship spoke for himself, in a weak voice.

"I make no concealment of my association with the Duke of Monmouth.
I'll take the consequences. But, if you please, I'll take them after
trial--by my peers, as the doctor has said."

The feeble voice ceased, and was followed by a moment's silence. As is
common in many bluste