"Die we doubtless shall, but not before we have trounced this bloody rabble." Still Gaspard did not move.

"After to-night there will be no gentlemen left in France, for we of the religion had all the breeding." Then he laughed bitterly.

"I mind Ribaut's last words, when Menendez slew him.
'We are of earth,' says he, 'and to earth we must return, and twenty years more or less can matter little!' That is our case to-night, old friend." "Maybe," said the Englishman.

"But why talk of dying?
You and I are Spanish caballeros.

Walsingham told me that the King hated that nation, and that the Queen-mother loved it not, but it would appear that now we are very popular in Paris." "Nay, nay, this is no time to play the Nicodemite.