‘Fire a volley upon those devils when they draw near, and so rid the earth of them,’ I suggested.
Lancelot shook his head.
‘They are under the protection of a flag of truce——’ he began, when I interrupted him hotly.
‘What right,’ I raged at him, ‘what right have such devils to the consideration of honourable warfare and of honourable men?’
Lancelot sighed.
‘None whatever; but that does not change us from being honourable men and from carrying on our contest according to the rules of honourable warfare. They are devils, ruffians, what you will, but we—we are gentlemen, and we have passed our word. We cannot go back from that.’
I know very well that I blushed a fiery red, from rage against our enemy and shame at Lancelot’s reproof. But I said nothing, and Mr. Ebrow spoke.
‘Mr. Amber,’ he said, clasping Lancelot’s hand as he spoke, ‘you are in the right, in the very right, as a Christian soldier and a Christian gentleman. Their hour will come without our anticipating it.’ And then he wrung my hand warmly, in token that he understood my feelings too, and did not overmuch blame me.