Driscoll looked at Jacqueline. She, the inspiration of such a condition, knew quite well beforehand that he would not submit.
“This is final, is it?” he demanded.
“It is, because We cannot provoke war with the United States, but,” Maximilian urged querulously, “you have only to surrender your swords.”
“After refusing them to the Federals, to the men who fought for them? And now we are to give them up to a pack of––” Driscoll stopped short and took another breath. “By God, sir, no sir!” he cried.
266CHAPTER XXXIII
A Sponsor for the Fat Padre
“Every man is as heaven made him, and sometimes a great deal worse.”
–Cervantes.
When Driscoll had gone, Jacqueline would not linger. Maximilian sought to detain her, but something had happened that he could not fathom. She was no more the same person.
“Not even a token to bid me be brave so far away in Austria?” he pleaded.