"Yes, yes, the wine-bag is a Moor—it is a Moor!"
"Then let us attack him. To arms—to arms! War, war!"
"War to the Moor! Up for St. James and Spain!"
Such were some of the exclamations which followed the arrival of Martin.
Having uttered these cries, the bandits took several sacred vessels from the heap whence the Raposo took the crucifix on which he had administered the oath to Martin, and the sacrilegious ruffians filled them with wine and lifted them to their impure lips.
Martin shuddered at the sight of this impious profanation and did not take any part in it.
The Raposo noticed this, and said to him—
"Brother, you would make a bad priest if you can't drink out of a chalice. Is it because you have not taken orders?"
"By Lucifer!" exclaimed Martin, placing his hand on his sword, feeling persuaded that he was lost if he did not put on a bold face. "Know, Don Raposo, or Don Villain, that if I have not orders I at least have a sword, and that if I do not drink wine, I'll drink the blood of anyone that insults me as you do."
"So, low peasant," replied the Raposo, also placing his hand on his steel, "you dare to speak thus to your captain! I'll resign my honourable position if my dagger does not teach you to be respectful."