"I am in service here. Tell me, comrade, is it sooth that we
shall have another fling at these Frenchmen? It is so rumored in
the guard-room, and that Sir Nigel will take the field once
more."
"It is like enough, mon gar., as things go."
"Now may the Lord be praised!" cried the other. "This very night
will I set apart a golden ouche to be offered on the shrine of my
name-saint. I have pined for this, Aylward, as a young maid
pines for her lover."
"Art so set on plunder then? Is the purse so light that there is
not enough for a rouse? I have a bag at my belt, camarade, and
you have but to put your fist into it for what you want. It was
ever share and share between us."
"Nay, friend, it is not the Frenchman's gold, but the Frenchman's
blood that I would have. I should not rest quiet in the grave,
coz, if I had not another turn at them. For with us in France it
has ever been fair and honest war--a shut fist for the man, but a
bended knee for the woman. But how was it at Winchelsea when
their galleys came down upon it some few years back? I had an
old mother there, lad, who had come down thither from the
Midlands to be the nearer her son.
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