"Perhaps your Excellency will speak for himself," grunted the captain, whose disgust for his work was growing as rapidly as his contempt for the civilian.
"Aren't we masters here?" the Viscount demanded. "We will parley with no Abbots. Aren't we in possession?"
"I think not," said the captain. "I'm no lawyer: but the Prior says these papers are addressed first and foremost to the Abbot."
A confused murmuring had been growing louder and louder among the troopers who crowded the doorway. All of a sudden it rose to an uproar, and two struggling men lurched into the light, locked in a fierce embrace. The captain sprang upon them as if they had been two fighting terriers, cuffing them roundly about the ears till they fell apart.
"What is this?" he thundered.
"It's about religion," sang out the fat Ferreira.
The two men bent their shoulders and eyed one another with tigerish eyes as they prepared for a second spring; but their comrades rushed upon them and held them apart.
"Miguelite hunchback!" snarled the one.
"Liberal nigger!" hissed the other.
"Hold your tongues!" roared the captain, firing a volley of oaths.