Then for a while they wrangled hideously, their heads held close together in the patch of moonlight, and so loathsome did their faces look, so plainly was the wicked purpose of their hearts written upon them, that in that faint luminous glow they might have been mistaken for emissaries from the under-world chaffering over the price of a human soul. At last the bargain was struck for fifty florins, and having received it into her hand Black Meg departed. “Sixty-seven in all,” she muttered to herself as she regained the street. “Well, it was no use holding out for any more, for he hasn’t got the cash. The man’s as poor as Lazarus, but he wants to live like Dives, and, what is more, he gambles, as I learned at The Hague. Also, there’s something queer about his past; I have heard as much as that. It must be looked into, and perhaps the bundle of papers which I helped myself to out of his desk while I was waiting”—and she touched the bosom of her dress to make sure that they were safe—“may tell me a thing or two, though likely enough they are only unpaid bills. Ah! most noble cheat and captain, before you have done with her you may find that Black Meg knows how to pay back hot water for cold!” CHAPTER V THE DREAM OF DIRK On the day following Montalvo’s interview with Black Meg Dirk received a message from that gentleman, sent to his lodging by an orderly, which reminded him that he had promised to dine with him this very night. Now he had no recollection of any such engagement. Remembering with shame, however, that there were various incidents of the evening of the supper whereof his memory was most imperfect, he concluded that this must be one of them. So much against his own wishes Dirk sent back an answer to say that he would appear at the time and place appointed. This was the third thing that had happened to annoy him that day. First he had met Pieter van de Werff, who informed him that all Leyden was talking about Lysbeth and the Captain Montalvo, to whom she was said to have taken a great fancy. Next when he went to call at the house in the Bree Straat he was told that both Lysbeth and his cousin Clara had gone out sleighing, which he did not believe, for as a thaw had set in the snow was no longer in a condition suitable to that amusement. Moreover, he could almost have sworn that, as he crossed the street, he caught sight of Cousin Clara’s red face peeping at him from between the curtains of the upstairs sitting-room. Indeed he said as much to Greta, who, contrary to custom, had opened the door to him. “I am sorry if Mynheer sees visions,” answered that young woman imperturbably. “I told Mynheer that the ladies had gone out sleighing.” “I know you did, Greta; but why should they go out sleighing in a wet thaw?” “I don’t know, Mynheer. Ladies do those things that please them. It is not my place to ask their reasons.”