"
Darius Boland had a gift of saying the right thing in the right way, and
he had said it now. The governor was not so dense as to put this man
against him, for women were curious folk. They often attach importance
to the opinion of a faithful servant and let it weigh against great men.
He had once lost a possible fortune by spurning a little terrier of the
daughter of the Earl of Shallow, and the lesson had sunk deep into his
mind. He was high-placed, but not so high as to be sure of success where
a woman was concerned, and he had made up his mind to capture Sheila
Llyn, if so be she could be caught flying, or settled, or sleeping.
"Ah, well, he has drunk with worse men than republicans. Boland. He was
a common sailor. He drank what was given him with whom it chanced in the
fo'castle."
Darius sniffed a little, and kept his head. "But he changed all that,
your honour, and gave sailormen better drink than they ever had, I hear.
In Jamaica he treats his slaves as though they were men and not
Mohicans."
"Well, he'll have less freedom in future, Boland, for word has come from
London that he's to keep to his estate and never leave it.
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