But Adrian was not drowned, for at that moment he was dragging himself painfully through the deep, greasy mud of the opposing bank and hiding among the old boats and lumber which were piled there, till his breath came to him again. But he could not stay long, for even if he had not been afraid that they would come and find him, it was too cold. So he crept away into the darkness. Half an hour later, as, resting from their daily labours, Hague Simon and his consort Meg were seated at their evening meal, a knock came at the door, causing them to drop their knives and to look at each other suspiciously. “Who can it be?” marvelled Meg. Simon shook his fat head. “I have no appointment,” he murmured, “and I don’t like strange visitors. There’s a nasty spirit abroad in the town, a very nasty spirit.” “Go and see,” said Meg. “Go and see yourself, you——” and he added an epithet calculated to anger the meekest woman. She answered it with an oath and a metal plate, which struck him in the face, but before the quarrel could go farther, again came the sound of raps, this time louder and more hurried. Then Black Meg went to open the door, while Simon took a knife and hid himself behind a curtain. After some whispering, Meg bade the visitor enter, and ushered him into the room, that same fateful room where the evidence was signed. Now he was in the light, and she saw him. “Oh! come here,” she gasped. “Simon, come and look at our little grandee.” So Simon came, whereon the pair of them, clapping their hands to their ribs, burst into screams of laughter. “It’s the Don! Mother of Heaven! it is the Don,” gurgled Simon. Well might they laugh, they who had known Adrian in his pride and rich attire, for before them, crouching against the wall, was a miserable, bareheaded object, his hair stained with mud and rotten eggs, blood running from his temple where a stone had caught him, his garments a mass of filth and dripping water, one boot gone and his hose burst to tatters. For a while the fugitive bore it, then suddenly, without a word, he drew the sword that still remained to him and rushed at the bestial looking Simon, who skipped away round the table. “Stop laughing,” he said, “or I will put this through you. I am a desperate man.” “You look it,” said Simon, but he laughed no more, for the joke had become risky. “What do you want, Heer Adrian?” “I want food and lodging for so long as I please to stop here. Don’t be afraid, I have money to pay you.” “I am thinking that you are a dangerous guest,” broke in Meg. “I am,” replied Adrian; “but I tell you that I shall be more dangerous outside. I was not the only one concerned in that matter of the evidence, and if they get me they will have you too. You understand?” Meg nodded. She understood perfectly; for those of her trade Leyden was growing a risky habitation.