Captain Protheroe laughed quickly.
Then he turned to Jeffreys with an air of deep reproach.
"Alas! my lord," he cried, "you do indeed underrate my opinion of your ability; moreover, I fear, you take me for a fool. No, no, my lord; that plan likes me not."
Judge Jeffreys started up with an oath, and made a movement to tear the paper in pieces. Captain Protheroe stopped him sharply.
"Hearken, my lord," he said sternly, "you will hand that pass to me now, you will take no steps to interfere with our departure, and you will at once apply yourself to obtain the pardons I demand. If money be required to win them I doubt not your lordship has sufficient to meet all expenses. In the meantime I and my friends will ride in safety to the coast, stopping a night or so at Durford Manor house——"
"Durford," cried Jeffreys sharply, "what would you at Durford?"
"Er—a small matter of an old gold brocade, I believe," answered Captain Protheroe, with a little smile of reminiscence. "From there we will take ship and sail for Holland. On the day your lordship procures our pardons, the letters you require shall be delivered into your hands."
"And if I refuse?"
"Refuse! why, then, as I have already explained, the letters have another destination. His Majesty, I believe, has now left Winchester, but the Duke——"
"I should at least soon see you hanged," interrupted Jeffreys furiously.