In those days you might help yourself to a capon, a horse, a wench, or any other trifle of the enemy's, without ever a word of censure or a question asked.

Why, man, it is but two days since His Majesty had a poor devil hanged at Kendal for laying violent hands upon a pullet.

Pox on it, Cris, my gorge rises at the thought! When I saw that wretch strung up, I swore to fall behind at the earliest opportunity, and to-night's affair makes this imperative." "And what may your plans be ?" asked Crispin.
"War is my trade, not a diversion, as it is with Wilmot and Buckingham and the other pretty gentlemen of our train.

And since the King's army is like to yield me no profit, faith, I'll turn me to the Parliament's.
If I get out of Penrith with my life, I'll shave my beard and cut my hair to a comely and godly length; don a cuckoldy steeple hat and a black coat, and carry my sword to Cromwell with a line of text." Sir Crispin fell to pondering.

Noting this, and imagining that he guessed aright the reason: "I take it, Cris," he put in, keenly glancing at the other, "that you are much of my mind ?" "Maybe I am," replied Crispin carelessly.
"Why, then," cried Hogan, "need we part company ?" There was a sudden eagerness in his tone, born of the admiration in which this rough soldier of fortune held one whom he accounted his better in that same harsh trade.