thousand pounds, and lost it in fighting with Spanish buccaneers.
So Biatt was right, and went away content, while I stayed here--
because I must--and bought the land and house where I have my great
sugar-plantation. It is an enterprise of volume, and all would be
well if I were normal in mind and body; but I am not. I have a past
that stinks to heaven, as Shakespeare says, and I am an outlaw of
the one land which has all my soul and name and heritage. Yes, that
is what they have done to me--made a convict, an outlaw of me. I
may live--but not in the British Isles; and if any man kills me, he
is not liable to the law.

Men do not treat me badly here, for I have property and money, and
this is a land where these two things mean more than anywhere else,
even more than in a republic like that where you live. Here men
live according to the law of the knife, fork, and bottle, yet
nowhere in the world is there deeper national morality or wider
faith or endurance. It is a land where the sea is master, where
naval might is the chief factor, and weighs down all else.

Here the navies of the great powers meet and settle their disputes,
and every being in the island knows that life is only worth what a
hundred-ton brig-of-war permits. I have seen here in Jamaica the
off-scourings of the French and Spanish fleets on parole; have seen
them entering King's House like loyal citizens; have even known of
French prisoners being used as guards at the entrance of King's
House, and I have informed the chief justice of dismal facts which
ought to have moved him. But what can you expect of a chief justice
who need not be a lawyer, as this one is not, and has other means of
earning income which, though not disloyal, are lowering to the
status of a chief justice? And not the chief justice alone. I have