By my hilt! cried the other, if you were to cross the narrow sea you would find them as thick as bees at a tee-hole. Couldst t shoot a bolt down any street of Bordeaux, I warrant, but you would pink archer, squire, or knight. There are more breastplates than gabardines to be seen, I promise you. And where got you all these pretty things? asked Hordle John, pointing at the heap in the corner. Where there is as much more waiting for any brave lad to pick it up. Where a good man can always earn a good wage, and where he need look upon man as his paymaster, but just reach his hand out and help himself. Aye, it is a goodly and a proper life. And here I drink to mine old comrades, and the saints be with them! Arouse all together, me, enfants, under pain of my displeasure. To Sir Claude Latour and the White Company!