and he dressed with all the care of a Court-gallant.

"Has that whelp Godolphin been to visit you?" he asked as he entered.

"Aye," growled Sir Oliver. "He came to tell me some things and to hear
some others in return."

"Ha. I passed him just beyond the gates, and he was deaf to my
greeting. 'Tis a most cursed insufferable pup."

"Art a judge of men, Lal." Sir Oliver stood up booted. "I am for
Arwenack to exchange a compliment or two with Sir John."

His tight-pressed lips and resolute air supplemented his words so well
that Lionel clutched his arm.

"You're not...you're not ...?"

"I am." And affectionately, as if to soothe the lad's obvious alarm,
he patted his brother's shoulder. "Sir John," he explained, "talks too
much. 'Tis a fault that wants correcting. I go to teach him the
virtue of silence."

"There will be trouble, Oliver."

"So there will--for him. If a man must be saying of me that I am a
pirate, a slave-dealer, a murderer, and Heaven knows what else, he must
be ready for the consequences. But you are late, Lal. Where have you
been?"