Be in a hurry about it, sir." He whipped out his sword, and in his half drunken eyes there gathered the dull film of murderous passion.
"Put up your weapon, Captain; you will not attack an unarmed priest.
You are a soldier, and will not dare strike an old, defenceless man." "But I will strike a black-robed and black-hearted French rebel.

Get that flag, you grinning fool!" The two men stood facing each other.

Father Beret's eyes did not stir from their direct, fearless gaze.

What Farnsworth had called a grin was a peculiar smile, not of merriment, a grayish flicker and a slight backward wrinkling of the cheeks.

The old man's arms were loosely crossed upon his sturdy breast.
"Strike if you must," he said very gently, very firmly.