The Jacobite laughed. “You grow peremptory—let me pass.”

“I desire your papers.”

“I will not part with them.”

“It were wiser.”

“Do you threaten me?”

“By God, yes!”

The King’s messenger laughed again; his eyes blazed in a white face.

“William of Orange is ill-served in such clumsy knaves as you!” he cried.

“Give me the papers, damn you!”

“Do you think me a traitor?”