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 blustering men, there was a deal of timidity deep
down in Hobart. The announcement of his lordship's rank had touched
those depths. A servile upstart, he stood in awe of titles. And he
stood in awe of his colonel. Percy Kirke was not lenient with