"A broken soldier living on an hour of chance service?
Pooh, man," with contempt, "do not threaten me! Do you think that I do not know you more than half craven?
The lad below there would cut your comb yet, did I suffer it.
But that is not the point.

The point is that you must needs advertise the world that you and the Syndic, who has charge of the walls, are hail-fellows, and the world will ask why! Or he must deal with you as you deserve and out you go from Geneva!" "Per Bacco! I am not the only soldier," Grio muttered, "who ruffles it here!" "No! And is not that half our battle ?" Basterga rejoined, gazing on him with massive scorn.

"To make use of them and their grumbling, and their distaste for the Venerable Company of Pastors who rule us! Such men are our tools; but tools only, and senseless tools, for Geneva won for the Grand Duke, and what will they be the better, save in the way of a little more licence and a little more drink?
But for you I had something better! Is the little farm in Piedmont not worth a month's abstinence?
Is drink-money for your old age, when else you must starve or stab in the purlieus of Genoa, not worth one month's sobriety?
But you must needs for the sake of a single night's debauch ruin me and get yourself broken on the wheel!" Grio shrank under his eye.

"There is no harm done," he muttered at last.
"Nobody suspects what is between us." "How do you know that ?" came the retort.

"What?
You think it is natural Blondel should favour such as you ?" "It will not be the first time Geneva cloak has covered Genoa velvet!" "Velvet!" Basterga repeated with a sneer.