"Of course, I'd a deal rather have chosen a more comfortable time; but, as matters have shown themselves, I had no choice and was forced to ask your presence at once." Tarrant, glass in hand, looked at the speaker; and there was still a glint of his first mood in his eye. "There have been a few occasions," said he, "when you all but had us here without your asking." Captain Weir raised his brows; Blake laughed and said to him: "A half-dozen times in the past year he has been for putting a pistol to your ribs. It was all I could do to persuade him." Weir said nothing, but looked at Tarrant, his brows still up. "Was there a lack of cause for the desire?" said Tarrant. "I could name you five reasons," giving Weir's look back steadily, "for each separate impulse. But we'll speak of the last one only." "It will save time," said Weir composedly. "Why," demanded Tarrant, "when the whole city was up and bleating in the matter of the French letters of marque, must you put yourself forward in it? We were your friends, yet you spoke to our discredit early and late. Mortal foes couldn't have suffered worse because of you." "I had warned you all in that matter," said Weir coldly. "I pointed out the state of the public mind. I showed you as plainly as any ready men need be shown that no good could come of the venture in the long run. If it had concerned yourselves only, you could have pressed it to any conclusion you saw fit; but, as I knew, I, too, would be involved in any mischance, and, as it was plain that you meant to give no heed to my sayings, I moved in the matter myself. It was I who made it impossible for you to carry it any further. Wait!" as Tarrant was working into a bitter speech; "one word more, so that I may be sure you understand what the situation was. If your plan had carried, we three, instead of sitting here at our ease, would be at this minute swinging from gibbets on Windmill Island." Tarrant caught his breath and sank back in his chair. Blake crossed his legs, lifted a new-filled glass, and said: "All gibbets behind us, Captain! And to the devil with the hangman!" "I did not believe in this adventure from the first, and so told you," said Weir. "However, there are those of another sort," with a nod of his head, "which a man of my growing years can approve of--a surer profit and a lesser hazard." Tarrant, attracted by the tone and manner of Weir, valued him with a steady look. Then he looked at Blake; the freebooter shifted to a more comfortable position in his chair. But neither spoke. "Have more of the brandy," said Captain Weir. "It's thought to be excellent. One of our captains brought it with him on his last visit to France. It was taken from the cellar of a nobleman's house, while its unfortunate owner was being taken from his library." The liquor shone, a fine amber, in the glasses; but Tarrant did not touch it. "So," said he, "there is another matter going forward?"