“The papist witch, Black Meg, dressed like a man, and the fellow who came here from The Hague yesterday, whither they are going to report that the Heer Adrian routed them, and that the Broekhovens with the Jufvrouw Elsa got through unsearched.” “What does it all mean, Martin?” “It means, master, that we shall have a warm welcome yonder; it means that some one guesses we know about this treasure, and that we shan’t get the stuff away without trouble.” “Will they waylay us?” Martin shrugged his shoulders as he answered, “It is always well to be ready, but I think not. Coming back they may waylay us, not going. Our lives are of little use without the money; also they cannot be had for the asking.” Martin was right, for travelling slowly they reached the city without molestation, and, riding to the house of Dirk’s correspondent, put up their horses; ate, rested, delivered the sample chandelier, and generally transacted the business which appeared to be the object of their journey. In the course of conversation they learned from their host that things were going very ill here at The Hague for all who were supposed to favour the New Religion. Tortures, burnings, abductions, and murders were of daily occurrence, nor were any brought to judgment for these crimes. Indeed, soldiers, spies, and government agents were quartered on the citizens, doing what they would, and none dared to lift a hand against them. Hendrik Brant, they heard also, was still at large and carrying on business as usual in his shop, though rumour said that he was a marked man whose time would be short. Foy announced that they would stay the night, and a little after sunset called to Martin to accompany him, as he wished to walk in the Broad Street to see the sights of the town. “Be careful, Mynheer Foy,” said their host in warning, “for there are many strange characters about, men and women. Oh! yes, this mere is full of pike, and fresh bait is snapped up sharply.” “We will be wary,” replied Foy, with the cheerful air of a young man eager for excitement. “Hague pike don’t like Leyden perch, you know; they stick in their throats.” “I hope so, I hope so,” said the host, “still I pray you be careful. You will remember where to find the horses if you want them; they are fed and I will keep them saddled. Your arrival here is known, and for some reason this house is being watched.” Foy nodded and they started out; Foy going first, and Red Martin, staring round him like a bewildered bumpkin, following at his heel, with his great sword, which was called Silence, girt about his middle, and hidden as much as possible beneath his jerkin. “I wish you wouldn’t look so big, Martin,” Foy whispered over his shoulder; “everybody is staring at you and that red beard of yours, which glows like a kitchen fire.” “I can’t help it, master,” said Martin, “my back aches with stooping as it is, and, as for the beard, well, God made it so.”