“Yes, yes,” murmured Cromwell; “the French fight well; and if my glass was good and I mistake not, they were foremost in the fight.”
“They were,” replied Mordaunt.
“After you, however,” said Cromwell.
“It was the fault of their horses, not theirs.”
Another pause.
“And the Scotch?”
“They kept their word and never stirred,” said Mordaunt.
“Wretched men!”
“Their officers wish to see you, sir.”
“I have no time to see them. Are they paid?”