'Peace for the little Gascon!' cried the archers. 'Let every man have his word. Shoot straight for the mark, lad, and fair play for all.'
'Bethink you, then,' said Sir Claude, 'that you go under a hard rule, with neither freedom nor pleasure—and for what? For sixpence a day, at the most; while now you may walk across the country and stretch out either hand to gather in whatever you have a mind for. What do we not hear of our comrades who have gone with Sir John Hawkwood to Italy? In one night they have held to ransom six hundred of the richest noblemen of Mantua. They camp before a great city, and the base burghers come forth with the keys, and then they make great spoil; or, if it please them better, they take so many horse-loads of silver as a composition; and so they journey on from state to state, rich and free and feared by all. Now, is not that the proper life for a soldier?'
'The proper life for a robber!' roared Hordle John, in his thundering voice.
'And yet there is much in what the Gascon says,' said a swarthy fellow in a weather-stained doublet; 'and I for one would rather prosper in Italy than starve in Spain.'
'You were always a cur and a traitor, Mark Shaw,' cried Aylward. 'By my hilt! if you will stand forth and draw your sword I will warrant you that you will see neither one nor the other.'
'Nay, Aylward,' said Sir Nigel, 'we cannot mend the matter by broiling. Sir Claude, I think that what you have said does you little honour, and if my words aggrieve you, I am ever ready to go deeper into the matter with you. But you shall have such men as will follow you, and you may go where you will, so that you come not with us. Let all who love their prince and country stand fast, while those who think more of a well-lined purse step forth upon the farther side.'
Thirteen bowmen, with hung heads and sheepish faces, stepped forward with Mark Shaw and ranged themselves
