At last he was able to say: "Good luck to you, Nic, and to the devil with the Rebellion! You're in for a bad drubbing." Nicolas had a sudden feeling of anger.

This superior air of Ferrol's was assumed by most Englishmen in the country, and it galled him.
"We'll not ask quarter of Englishmen; no-sacre!" he said in a rage.
"Well, Nic, I'm not so sure of that.

Better do that than break your pretty neck on a taut rope," was the lazy reply.
With an oath, Lavilette went out, banging the door after him.

Ferrol shrugged his shoulder with a stoic ennui, and put away the pistols in the trunk.

He was thinking how reckless he had been to take them out; and yet he was amused, too, at the risk he had run.