“Indeed. I thought I saw you slip in, and allow me to congratulate you on that; it was very well thought out and done, just as folk were moving up and down the stairs. Also, when I went home, I believe that I recognised a gentleman in the street whom I have been given to understand you honour with your friendship, a short, stout person with a bald head; let me see, he was called the Butcher at The Hague, was he not? No, do not pout, I have no wish to pry into the secrets of ladies, but still in my position here it is my business to know a thing or two. Well, what did you see?” “Excellency, I saw the young man I was sent to watch and Hendrik Brant, the son of the rich goldsmith at The Hague, praying side by side upon their knees.” “That is bad, very bad,” said Montalvo shaking his head, “but——” “I saw,” she went on in her hoarse voice, “the pair of them read the Bible.” “How shocking!” replied Montalvo with a simulated shudder. “Think of it, my orthodox friend, if you are to be believed, these two persons, hitherto supposed to be respectable, have been discovered in the crime of consulting that work upon which our Faith is founded. Well, those who could read anything so dull must, indeed, as the edicts tell us, be monsters unworthy to live. But, if you please, your proofs. Of course you have this book?” Then Black Meg poured forth all her tale—how she had watched and seen something, how she had listened and heard little, how she had gone to the secret panel, bending over the sleeping man, and found—nothing. “You are a poor sort of spy, mother,” commented the captain when she had done, “and, upon my soul, I do not believe that even a Papal inquisitor could hang that young fellow on your evidence. You must go back and get some more.” “No,” answered Black Meg with decision, “if you want to force your way into conventicles you had best do it yourself. As I wish to go on living here is no job for me. I have proved to you that this young man is a heretic, so now give me my reward.” “Your reward? Ah! your reward. No, I think not at present, for a reward presupposes services—and I see none.” Black Meg began to storm. “Be silent,” said Montalvo, dropping his bantering tone. “Look, I will be frank with you. I do not want to burn anybody. I am sick of all this nonsense about religion, and for aught I care every Netherlander in Leyden may read the Bible until he grows tired. I seek to marry that Jufvrouw Lysbeth van Hout, and to do this I desire to prove that the man whom she loves, Dirk van Goorl, is a heretic. What you have told me may or may not be sufficient for my purpose. If it is sufficient you shall be paid liberally after my marriage; if not—well, you have had enough. As for your evidence, for my part I may say that I do not believe a word of it, for were it true you would have brought the Bible.” As he spoke he rang a bell which stood upon a table, and before Meg could answer the soldier appeared.