"If they did so," cried Brooke, in stronger excitement, "they were a pack of cursed fools.
"'He that fights and runs away
May live to fight another day.'
That's my motto."
"Do you think I'll survive you?" asked Talbot, taking no notice of Brooke's words.
Brooke gave a wild laugh.
"You'll have to, my boy—you'll have to."
"I'm your page, your vassal," said she. "I'm a Talbot. We've exchanged arms. I've flung away the girl life. I'm a boy—the lad Talbot. We're brothers in arms, for good or evil, Brooke."
Brooke began to whistle, and then murmured some words like these:
"Non ego perfidum
Dixi sacramentum: ibimus, ibimus,
Utcunque praecedes, supremum
Carpere iter comites parati."
"What do you say?" asked Talbot.