"I!" cried Polidoro. "Did I ever say aught to make you doubt the captain's honor?"
"No! no!" cried voice after voice. "It is our fault. Let us suffer the penalty! Decimate us, captain!" cried several, "and let us have it over as soon as may be. We are ready."
"Lieutenant," I continued, advancing to Polidoro, "I demand your sword."
He moved his hand to the buckle of his belt as if to take it off, but the struggle was too great for his proud heart; his youthful blood was in arms, and, carried away by passion, he shouted hoarsely:
"Then come and take it!"
And drawing it from its sheath, he threw himself on guard.
"Bravo, lieutenant! Let him come and take it!" cried a voice at his side.
"Who spoke then?" I asked, feigning ignorance of the man.
"I!" cried an old soldier; one of the grognards of the company.
"Very well, Matteo; I will attend to you presently."