“Now, if only this old lady were concerned,” he reflected as he rode away, “the matter might be easy enough, and the Saints know it would be one to me, but unhappily that obstinate pig of a Hollander girl has all the money in her own right. In what labours do not the necessities of rank and station involve a man who by disposition requires only ease and quiet! Well, my young friend Lysbeth, if I do not make you pay for these exertions before you are two months older, my name is not Juan de Montalvo.” Three days later the ladies returned to Leyden. Within an hour of their arrival the Count called, and was admitted. “Stay with me,” said Lysbeth to her Aunt Clara as the visitor was announced, and for a while she stayed. Then, making an excuse, she vanished from the room, and Lysbeth was left face to face with her tormentor. “Why do you come here?” she asked; “I have given you my answer.” “I come for your own sake,” he replied, “to give you my reasons for conduct which you may think strange. You remember a certain conversation?” “Perfectly,” broke in Lysbeth. “A slight mistake, I think, Jufvrouw, I mean a conversation about an excellent friend of yours, whose spiritual affairs seem to interest you.” “What of it, Señor?” “Only this; I have made inquiries and——” Lysbeth looked up unable to conceal her anxiety. “Oh! Jufvrouw, let me beg of you to learn to control your expression; the open face of childhood is so dangerous in these days.” “He is my cousin.” “I know; were he anything more, I should be so grieved, but we can most of us spare a cousin or two.” “If you would cease amusing yourself, Señor——” “And come to the point? Of course I will. Well, the result of my inquiries has been to find out that this worthy person _is_ a heretic of the most pernicious sort. I said inquiries, but there was no need for me to make any. He has been——” “Not denounced,” broke in Lysbeth. “Oh! my dear lady, again that tell-tale emotion from which all sorts of things might be concluded. Yes—denounced—but fortunately to myself as a person appointed under the Edict. It will, I fear, be my duty to have him arrested this evening—you wish to sit down, allow me to hand you a chair—but I shall not deal with the case myself. Indeed, I propose to pass him over to the worthy Ruard Tapper, the Papal Inquisitor, you know—every one has heard of the unpleasant Tapper—who is to visit Leyden next week, and who, no doubt, will make short work of him.” “What has he done?” asked Lysbeth in a low voice, and bending down her head to hide the working of her features. “Done? My dear lady, it is almost too dreadful to tell you. This misguided and unfortunate young man, with another person whom the witnesses have not been able to identify, was seen at midnight reading the Bible.” “The Bible! Why should that be wrong?”