H. C. Bailey

“ I answered. "Is Breuthe so strong?"
"Do we strengthen it?" said Gaspar slowly. "Our food will not last long. Newstead's Company are not the men to feed on nettles. What is the end to be, captain? I like more than half a loaf, and there will not be half long."
"Mutiny against me?" I cried.
"Nay, no one will mutiny," said Vermeil smoothly; "but it is well to consider the wishes of the men."
"Teufel! I say they will mutiny," quoth Gaspar. "Men are men. Food is food. They'll mutiny sooner than starve. Gott! Do you blame them? Will you dine off cat-gut too?" ”

“ Are you turned coward?"
"I say what you say, my dear Gaspar. We are, indeed, desperate; that is why our council is held. But I say it is unlucky we are desperate; it is unfortunate we are constrained to a course which must lose so many men, perhaps all. I say it would be better if we had a chance of making terms with Alva—for example. It would be better—if it were not impossible."
"Ach! why talk of the impossible?" grunted the German.
"He will scarce be willing to treat with deserters," Vermeil went on, "and deserters who have nothing to give and all to ask. ”

“ Vermeil spread out his hands.
"The wages of Orange? They will not take long a-counting," he answered. "We must have money. We cannot get money by staying in Breuthe, and there seems little to be got by going out. It is unfortunate there is no other way." He paused, and Gaspar and I both stared at the sleek olive face, and the twinkling green eyes.
"As Gaspar said very well, the men are not angels, and only angels and devils work for nothing. Besides that, to break through Alva's lines again may not be so easy as it was the first time, and Alva may not treat us kindly if he takes us. ”