Ned slept for some hours. When he woke he heard the landlord talking in loud tones in the passage outside. "I tell you, wife it is a burning shame. Mynheer Von Bost has never done a soul harm in his life. He has always been ready to open his purse strings in case of distress; he is a man that does not meddle in any way with politics. It is true that he does not go to mass, but that hurts no one; and there is many a ne'er-do-well in the village who never darkens the church door. If he prefers to pray in his own house and in his own way, what matter is it to any one? His cloth mill gives employment to half the village. What we shall do if it is shut up I am sure I don't know. But what do they care for the village? Mynheer Von Bost is a Protestant and a rich man--that is quite enough for the Blood Council; so he and his pretty young wife are to be dragged off and executed." "What is that?" Ned asked, opening the door. "Can't the Blood Council even leave your quiet village alone?" "They can leave nothing alone," the landlord said bitterly. "An hour ago four of their officials rode up, under one of the agents of the Council--a squint eyed villain. They stopped at the door and asked for the house of Mynheer Von Bost, and then rode off, and half an hour afterwards one of the servants ran down into the village with the news that her master and mistress had been arrested, and that they were to be taken to Antwerp to be executed; for that, as it seems, they had already been tried without their knowing anything about it." Ned started when he heard the landlord describe the leader of the party. This, then, accounted for Genet's presence at Antwerp; he had been sent from Brussels to arrest this cloth manufacturer. He had evidently succeeded in establishing his identity late in the evening or at early morning, and guessing that Ned would have ridden on without loss of time after setting the soldiers on to assault him, had proceeded to carry out the mission with which he was charged. "The villagers would tear the villain limb from limb if they dared," the landlord went on. "Why don't they dare?" Ned asked. "Why? Why, because we should be having a troop of soldiers down here in twenty-four hours, and the village would be burnt, and every man in it, and woman too, put to death. No, no, sir; the people here would do a good deal for Mynheer Von Bost and his wife, but they won't risk everything." "Would they risk anything, do you think?" Ned asked. "Are there half a dozen men in the village, do you think, who would strike a blow for their master, if they could do it without running the risk you speak of?" The landlord looked at him sharply. "This is not the time, young sir, for men to speak before strangers about matters which may put their neck in danger."