He scented disclosure.
"Faith, you may if you have aught to tell me," and he signed to Beddoes and his companion to withdraw.
"Now, Master Hogan," Kenneth began resolutely as soon as they were alone, "I ask you to let me go my way unmolested.

Too long already has the stupidity of your followers detained me here unjustly.

That I reach London by midnight is to me a matter of the gravest moment, and you shall let me." "Soul of my body, Mr.Stewart, what a spirit you have acquired since last we met." "In your place I should leave our last meeting unmentioned, master turncoat." The Irishman's eyebrows shot up.
"By the Mass, young cockerel, I mislike your tone--" "You'll have cause to dislike it more if you detain me." He was desperate now.

"What would your saintly, crop-eared friends say if they knew as much of your past history as I do ?" "Tis a matter for conjecture," said Hogan, humouring him.
"How think you would they welcome the story of the roystering rake and debauchee who deserted the army of King Charles because they were about to hang him for murder ?" "Ah! how, indeed ?" sighed Hogan.
"What manner of reputation, think you, that for a captain of the godly army of the Commonwealth ?" "A vile one, truly," murmured Hogan with humility.
"And now, Mr.Hogan," he wound up loftily, "you had best return me that package, and be rid of me before I sow mischief enough to bring you a crop of hemp." Hogan stared at the lad's flushed face with a look of whimsical astonishment, and for a brief spell there was silence between them.
Slowly then, with his eyes still fixed upon Kenneth's, the captain unsheathed a dagger.

The boy drew back, with a sudden cry of alarm.
Hogan vented a horse-laugh, and ran the blade under the seal of Ashburn's letter.
"Be not afraid, my man of threats," he said pleasantly.