"
Darius looked concerned, and his dry face wrinkled still more. "Ah, and
when was this word come, your honour?"
"But yesterday, Boland, and he'll do well to obey, for I have no choice
but to take him in hand if he goes gallivanting."
"Gallivanting--here, in Jamaica! Does your honour remember where we
are?"
"Not in a bishop's close, Boland."
"No, not in a bishop's close, nor in an archdeacon's garden. For of all
places on earth where they defy religion, this is the worst, your honour.
There's as much religion here as you'll find in a last year's bird's-
nest. Gallivanting--where should he gallivant?"
The governor waved a contemptuous hand. "It doesn't need ingenuity to
find a place, for some do it on their own estate. I have seen it."
Darius spoke sharply. "Your honour, there's naught on Mr. Calhoun's
estate that's got the taint, and he's not the man to go hunting for it.
Drink--well, suppose a gentleman does take his quartern, is it a crime?
I ask your honour, is that a crime in Jamaica?"
"It's no crime, Boland; nevertheless, your Mr. Calhoun will have to take
his fill on his own land from the day I send him the command of the
London Government.
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