"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."