Chapter 21 - Page 2

you were having with the others.'

'Some such base offer was indeed made me,' said the German sternly. 'To which I answered that, though I sold my sword, I did not sell my honour. It is well that cavaliers of fortune should show that an engagement is with them--how do ye say it?--unbreakable until the war is over. Then by all means let him change his paymaster. Warum nicht?'

'True, friend, true!' replied Saxon. 'These beggarly Italians and Swiss have made such a trade of the matter, and sold themselves so freely, body and soul, to the longest purse, that it is well that we should be nice upon points of honour. But you remember the old hand-grip which no man in the Palatinate could exchange with you? Here is my captain, Micah Clarke. Let him see how warm a North German welcome may be.'

The Brandenburger showed his white teeth in a grin as he held out his broad brown hand to me. The instant that mine was enclosed in it he suddenly bent his whole strength upon it, and squeezed my fingers together until the blood tingled in the nails, and the whole hand was limp and powerless.

'Donnerwetter!' he cried, laughing heartily at my start of pain and surprise. 'It is a rough Prussian game, and the English lads have not much stomach for it.'

'Truly, sir,' said I, 'it is the first time that I have seen the pastime, and I would fain practise it under so able a master.'

'What, another!' he cried. 'Why, you must be still pringling from the first. Nay, if you will I shall not refuse you, though I fear it may weaken your hold upon your sword-hilt.'

He held out his hand as he spoke, and I grasped it firmly, thumb to thumb, keeping my elbow high so as to bear all my force upon it. His own trick was, as I observed, to gain command of the other hand by a great output of strength at the onset. This I prevented by myself putting out all my power. For a minute or more we stood motionless, gazing into each other's faces. Then I saw a bead of sweat trickle down his forehead, and I knew that he was beaten. Slowly his grip relaxed, and his hand grew limp and slack while my own tightened ever upon it, until he was forced in a surly, muttering voice to request that I should unhand him.

'Teufel und hexerei!' he cried, wiping away the blood which oozed from under his nails, 'I might as well put my fingers in a rat-trap. You are the first man that ever yet exchanged fair hand-grips with Anthony Buyse.'

'We breed brawn in England as well as in Brandenburg,' said Saxon, who was shaking with laughter over the German soldier's discomfiture. 'Why, I have seen that lad pick up a full-size sergeant of dragoons and throw him into a cart as though he had been a clod of earth.'

'Strong he is,' grumbled Buyse, still wringing his injured hand, 'strong as old Gotz mit de iron grip. But what good is strength alone in the handling of a weapon? It is not the force of a blow, but the way in