JOHN TALBOT.  We had so much to think on, sir.

HUGH TALBOT.  I did suspect as much.  So I came hither to recall the powder to your minds.

DRISCOLL.  We thought—­(BUTLER motions him to be silent.) We thought maybe you would not be coming at all, sir.  Maybe you would be dead.

HUGH TALBOT.  Well?  What an if I had been dead?  You had your orders.  You did not dream of giving up the Bridge of Cashala—­eh, Myles Butler?

BUTLER (after a moment).  No, sir.

HUGH TALBOT.  Nor you, Dick Fenton?

FENTON.  Sir, I—­No!

HUGH TALBOT (smoking throughout).  Good lads!  The wise heads were saying I was a stark fool to set you here at Cashala.  But I said:  I can be trusting the young riders that are learning their lessons in war from me.  I’ll be safe putting my honor into their hands.  And I was right, wasn’t I, Phelimy Driscoll?

DRISCOLL.  Give us the chance, sir, and we’ll be holding Cashala, even against the devil himself!

FENTON.  Aye, well said!

HUGH TALBOT.  Sure,’tis a passing good substitute for the devil sits yonder in Cromwell’s tent.

NEWCOMBE (with a shudder).  Cromwell!

HUGH TALBOT.  Aye, he was slaying your brother at Drogheda, Kit, and a fine, gallant lad your brother was.  And I’m thinking you’re like him, Kit.  Else I shouldn’t be trusting you here at Cashala.

NEWCOMBE.  I—­I—­Will they let us keep our swords?

HUGH TALBOT.  Well, it’s with yourselves it lies, whether you’ll keep them or not.

FENTON.  He means—­we mean—­on what terms, sir, do we surrender?

HUGH TALBOT.  Surrender?  Terms?

JOHN TALBOT.  We thought, sir, from your coming under their white flag—­perhaps you had made terms for us.

HUGH TALBOT.  How could I make terms?

NEWCOMBE.  Captain!

(At a look from HUGH TALBOT he becomes silent, fighting for self-control.)

HUGH TALBOT.  How could I make terms that you would hear to? 
Cashala Bridge is the gate of Connaught.

JOHN TALBOT.  Yes.

HUGH TALBOT.  Give Cromwell Cashala Bridge, and he’ll be on the heels of our women and our little ones.  At what price would ye be selling their safety?

DRISCOLL.  Cromwell—­when he takes us—­when he takes us—­

NEWCOMBE.  He’ll knock us on the head!

HUGH TALBOT.  Yes.  At the last.  Your five lives against our people’s safety.  You’d not give up the bridge?

JOHN TALBOT.  Five?  Our five?  But you—­you are the sixth.

FENTON.  You stay with us, Captain.  And then we’ll fight—­you’ll see how we shall fight.

HUGH TALBOT.  I shall be seeing you fight, perhaps, but I cannot stay now at Cashala.

(Rises.)

DRISCOLL.  Ye won’t be staying with us?

BUTLER (laughing harshly).  Now, on my soul!  Is this your faith, Hugh Talbot?  One liar I’ve followed, Charles Stuart, the son of a liar, and now a second liar—­