“Hush! Are you also a heretic? Do you not know that all this heresy springs from the reading of the Bible? You see, the Bible is a very strange book. It seems that there are many things in it which, when read by an ordinary layman, appear to mean this or that. When read by a consecrated priest, however, they mean something quite different. In the same way, there are many doctrines which the layman cannot find in the Bible that to the consecrated eye are plain as the sun and the moon. The difference between heresy and orthodoxy is, in short, the difference between what can actually be found in the letter of this remarkable work, and what is really there—according to their holinesses.” “Almost thou persuadest me——” began Lysbeth bitterly. “Hush! lady—to be, what you are, an angel.” There came a pause. “What will happen to him?” asked Lysbeth. “After—after the usual painful preliminaries to discover accomplices, I presume the stake, but possibly, as he has the freedom of Leyden, he might get off with hanging.” “Is there no escape?” Montalvo walked to the window, and looking out of it remarked that he thought it was going to snow. Then suddenly he wheeled round, and staring hard at Lysbeth asked, “Are you really interested in this heretic, and do you desire to save him?” Lysbeth heard and knew at once that the buttons were off the foils. The bantering, whimsical tone was gone. Now her tormentor’s voice was stern and cold, the voice of a man who was playing for great stakes and meant to win them. She also gave up fencing. “I am and I do,” she answered. “Then it can be done—at a price.” “What price?” “Yourself in marriage within three weeks.” Lysbeth quivered slightly, then sat still. “Would not my fortune do instead?” she asked. “Oh! what a poor substitute you offer me,” Montalvo said, with a return to his hateful banter. Then he added, “That offer might be considered were it not for the abominable laws which you have here. In practice it would be almost impossible for you to hand over any large sum, much of which is represented by real estate, to a man who is not your husband. Therefore I am afraid I must stipulate that you and your possessions shall not be separated.” Again Lysbeth sat silent. Montalvo, watching her with genuine interest, saw signs of rebellion, perchance of despair. He saw the woman’s mental and physical loathing of himself conquering her fears for Dirk. Unless he was much mistaken she was about to defy him, which, as a matter of fact, would have proved exceedingly awkward, as his pecuniary resources were exhausted. Also on the very insufficient evidence which he possessed he would not have dared to touch Dirk, and thus to make himself a thousand powerful enemies.