"With blunted sword, he's a demon. Give him a real weapon and he'll lay it down and bare his breast for your blow. Henry, you see, takes his religion more seriously than most, maybe even you. God has commanded, "Thou shaft not kill,' so Henry won't, not even to save his life." "I had no idea." "Sir priest, you see before you in the person of Henry Gilliver the makings of saint or martyr. Menzies and Cameron and the rest of us have no objections to the saint part, but, damn me, he becomes martyr over our dead bodies." "Methinks he isn't the only one with a martyrlike bent," Carlby replied sourly. He had found in Drummond's remarks an implied comparison that was not flattering to the Hospitaler-priest. Drummond tolerandy agreed. "Between you and me, you might well be right. But habits of a lifetime are hard to break, and for so long as I can remember, the companions have fought Gilliver's fights for him. We are to each other the brothers most of us never had. Blood couldn't make us closer." "Even Angus and Ogilvy?" Drummond laughed loudly.
