Captain Salt filled up the pause in his dulcet voice: "We want, my
lord, such a mutiny as, without succeeding, shall convince England of
the strong dissatisfaction felt by our forces at the favouritism
shown by his Majesty towards the Dutch."
"Salt," said his lordship, eyeing him narrowly, "you are remarkably
intelligent."
"Why, my lord, should I conceal my thoughts when they tally with my
honest hopes? I look around, and what do I see? Dutchmen filling
every lucrative post; Dutchmen crowding the House of Lords; Dutchmen
commanding our armies; Dutchmen pocketing our fattest revenues.
England is weary of it. I, as an Englishman, am weary of it.
My lord, if I dared to say it--"
"Would you mind looking out and observing if the sentry is at his
post?"
Captain Salt stepped to the door and opened it. The sentry was at
the far end of the passage, engaged in his steady tramp to and fro.
"My lord," he said, closing the door softly and returning, "let this
mutiny fail! It will serve its purpose if it brings home to the
understanding of Englishmen the iniquity of this plague of Dutchmen.
Let that feeling ripen. You will return before the winter, and by
that time you may strike boldly. Then, from your place in the House
of Lords, you can move an address--"
"Go on," murmured the Earl, as he paused for a moment.
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