“I don’t want to know what he isn’t. I want to know what he is. What is a man?” “A felly what can do his piece, and stick it out. A man who won’t hang back, or lie up, or give you no lip.” “You would like the world composed of such men?” “B’gee I would. You’re right.” “And you, Stukeley?” “I’d like my dinner in peace, without a lot of cross-examination. Talk about beauty with Perrin there. He likes to hear you. I don’t.” “No,” said Perrin. “No, Stukeley. I shouldn’t think you ever liked to hear of anything noble.” “Noble. Good Lord. I hope I spend my time better. You two seem to think because you read a few half-tipped writers like yourselves, you’re free to judge everybody else.” “Well,” said Margaret. “And don’t you judge everybody else? Better judge, I think, with some knowledge of the law.” “Don’t lose your temper about it. You’re such a funny devil.” “Mr. Iles,” said Olivia, in order to create a diversion. “Have you ever been in Virginia, in any of your voyages?” “Yes, miss. I been there two or three times.” “Tell us about it, Mr. Iles,” said Margaret. “Were you there at the time of the rebellion?” “I was there just after.” “What was the cause of the rebellion?” Olivia asked. “It was hushed up, in England. But a man I once met told me that it was a very terrible thing. You remember Charles Myngs, Charles? He was one of the rebels.” “I know. He was very lucky to get away. The rebellion was caused by the action of a wise, far-seeing young man, who objected to paying taxes to, and being governed by, a body of wiseacres three thousand miles away, who gave nothing in return, except expensive impositions.” “You talk like a rebel yourself,” said Stukeley. “I suppose you sympathize with them?” “Most certainly I do.” “But to go against the King,” said Olivia. “And to cause all that bloodshed.” “The King,” said Iles, with contempt. “I don’t see what you English fellies want with a king. What good is a king to you, anyway? I seen him once. I wouldn’t own to a man like the one I seen. King James, hey?”