"There is always time to avoid committing a crime."
The captain, as may be seen, was simply one of those professional heroes, grown old in the leather stock, who know of no country but the flag, and no other law but military discipline. Iron arms and wooden heads. They are neither citizens nor men. They only recognize honor in the form of a general's epaulets. It is of no use talking to them of political duties, of obedience to the laws, of the Constitution. What do they know about all this? What is a Constitution; what are the most holy laws, against three words which a corporal may murmur into the ear of a sentinel? Take a pair of scales, put in one side the Gospels, in the other the official instructions; now weigh them. The corporal turns the balance; the Deity kicks the beam.
God forms a portion of the order of the day of Saint Bartholomew. "Kill all. He will recognized his own."
This is what the priests accept, and at times glorify.
Saint Bartholomew has been blessed by the Pope and decorated with the Catholic medal.[22]
Meanwhile Ossian Dumas appeared determined. The captain made a last effort.
"You will ruin yourself," said he.
"I shall save my honor."
"It is precisely your honor that you are sacrificing."
"Because I am going away?"