Jock shrugged. "Doctors," he said, in comprehen sive disgust.

Trev closed his eyes and opened them. "The constable hasn't been here yet, then?"

His manservant gave him a long, interested stare. "The constable. Should we be expecting the constable, sir?"

"I seem to have picked a fight with a local magistrate."

Jock drew his big body up straight. "Lordy," he said. "You knocked down a judge?"

"Most likely. It was a little… confusing. I know I punched his friend, the major of dragoons."

"That ain't a good thing, sir."

"No. In point of fact, it's a consummate disaster."

Jock nodded slowly. "Aye."

Trev leaned heavily against the rough wood. "I can't get snagged now. If I'm discovered in England, it'll be the gallows."

"You sure they'll send the constable? Was it self defense? What can they take you up for?"

"Disturbing the peace, assault—we did some considerable damage to the Bluebell tavern."

"Nobody weren't killed, was they?"

"No." Trev scowled. "At least… not while I was there." He rolled his head back, resting it against the wall. "Mother of God, I hope not."

"You certain this magistrate'd recognize you, sir? It's a country place here. Maybe he don't know who you are."

"He may not. But his friend the major does. Called me a French blackguard. Or—" Trev hesitated. He turned his head, frowning, trying to recall their alco holic brangling. "I'd swear he said blackmail."

"Damme," Jock said, squaring his enormous shoul ders. "That's an insult!"

"I suppose I could blackmail him after all, if I cared to," Trev muttered. "But it was hellish more fun to hit him instead."

"You don't blackmail nobody, and you don't forge nothin'," Jock said fiercely. "When you was Monsieur LeBlanc, you always paid out fair and square. That's why I've stuck with you, sir, and that's why they still wants you back so bad to operate the fights. Ain't nobody we trust as much as you, and them judges can say what they like. We all know you didn't forge that bond note, and we know why you took the blame."

Trev gave his manservant a crooked smirk. "A touching encomium to my honesty. I could have used it when I was on trial."

"The Rooster knows why you did it." Jock gave a thrust of his chin toward heaven. "He knows. Mrs. Fowler's tucked up all safe and sound with her little boy, ain't she? Though she don't deserve a bit of it. You're too good a man for her, and so was Jem Fowler."