n the plantations, for which purpose he had
been originally acquired.

"It is yourself, madam, I have to thank for my comparatively easy
and clean condition," said Mr. Blood, "and I am glad to take this
opportunity of doing so."

The gratitude was in his words rather than in his tone. Was he mocking,
she wondered, and looked at him with the searching frankness that
another might have found disconcerting. He took the glance for a
question, and answered it.

"If some other planter had bought me," he explained, "it is odds that
the facts of my shining abilities might never have been brought to
light, and I should be hewing and hoeing at this moment like the poor
wretches who were landed with me."

"And why do you thank me for that? It was my uncle who bought you."

"But he would not have done so had you not urged him. I perceived your
interest. At the time I resented it."

"You resented it?" There was a challenge in her boyish voice.

"I have had no lack of experiences of this mortal life; but to be
bought and sold was a new one, and I was hardly in the mood to love my
purchaser."

"If I urged you upon my uncle, sir, it was that I commiserated you."
There was a slight severity in her tone, as if to reprove the mixture of
mockery and flippancy in which he seemed to be speaking.

She proceeded to explain herself. "My uncle may appear to you a hard
man. No doubt he is. They are all hard men, these planters. It is the
life, I suppose. But there are others here who are worse. There is Mr.
Crabston, for instance, up at Speightstown. He was there on the mole,
waiting to buy my uncle's leavings, and if you had fallen into his
hands... A dreadful man. That is why."

He was a little bewildered.

"This interest in a stranger..." he began. Then changed the direction of
his probe. "But there were others as deserving of commiseration."

"You did not seem quite like the others."

"I am not," said he.

"Oh!" She stared at him, bridling a little. "You have a good opinion of
yourself."

"On the contrary. The others are all worthy rebels. I am not. That
is the difference. I was one who had not the wit to see that England
requires purifying. I was content to pursue a doctor's trade in
Bridgewater whilst my betters were shedding their blood to drive out an
unclean tyrant and his rascally crew."

"Sir!" she checked him. "I think you are talking treason."

"I hope I am not obscure," said he.

"There are those here who wou