"I called him King James in those days," I answered. "Yes, de Veulle was mocking the petty motley of our exiled Court, mocking it as much as anything else because he sought to humiliate the two Englishmen in the room.
"'What is this King but a puppet figure for us to dandle in England's face!' he said. 'And what are his courtiers but other puppets to dress the show?'"
"His toadies all laughed. They laughed so that they did not see the other Englishman and me rise in our seats.
"'And the most comical thing of all,' ended de Veulle, 'is to think of this Puppet King, with a Puppet Court, ruling over a Puppet England while France pulls the strings—as will surely happen some day.'"
"It was then I knocked him out of his chair."
Master Juggins gripped me by the hand with a warmth that surprized me.
"Good lad!" he exclaimed. "I would have done it myself!"
"What! You are no Jacobite!"
"I am no Jacobite," he replied in some confusion, "but no more were you a Jacobite when you struck him. 'Twas for England, Master Harry; and a man's country means more than any king that ever ruled. But what came after?"
"We fought in the upper room of the Toison d'Or—de Veulle and I and a friend of his and my friend. My friend was badly wounded."