He might lift up and cast down at will, might rule the Council as his creatures, might live to see Berne and the Cantons at his feet, might leave Geneva the capital of a great and wealthy country.
All this, at his will; or he might die! Die and rot and be forgotten like a dog that is cast out.
He did not believe in his heart that faith and honour were words; fetters woven by wise men to hamper fools.

He did not believe that all religions were alike, and good or bad as men made them.

But on the one side was life, and on the other death.

And he longed to live.
"I would that I could make you see things as I see them," Basterga resumed, in a gentle tone.

Patiently waiting the other's pleasure he had not missed an expression of his countenance, and, thinking the moment ripe, he used his last argument.