The ducking-stool, which was attached to a low, wheeled platform, was soon pushed to the edge of the water. Pierre was securely bound into the chair so that he could move neither hand nor foot, and then he was swung out in mid air over the water. The magistrate mounted on a platform near. He took out of his pocket a string about a yard long with a small iron ball attached to the end of it. He held one end of the string in his hand and set the ball to swinging like a pendulum. “Let him go down,” he cried. At this command Pierre was soused into the water. The crowd gave a cheer and fell to counting the swings of the pendulum. At first there were not many voices, but the number grew with the seconds. At twenty they sounded like a dull roar. At thirty the people were clapping their hands and stamping their feet and yelling like mad. “Thirty-eight,” rumbled the mob. “Thirty-nine, forty.” “Fetch up,” shouted the magistrate. Pierre was lifted out of the water, dripping and snorting from his forty seconds beneath the surface. “Have you had enough?” asked the magistrate. “No,” answered Pierre defiantly. “Dip him again.” Once more he was mercilessly ducked into the cold water. The pendulum was again set in motion. The crowd fell into its boisterous count. I looked around in dismay. “Is there nothing we can do?” I asked the dominie. “Nothing,” answered a strange voice over my shoulder. I whirled about to see who had spoken, and stood face to face with Patroon Van Volkenberg. He was no longer the anger-tossed man I had seen in the coffee-house. He was now cool and collected. A sinister smile scarcely ruffled his calm features. But when he spoke to me his voice bit like a cold wind. “No, Monsieur Le Bourse—you see I know your name—no, there is nothing you can do. But we shall meet again.” He turned away instantly and was swallowed in the crowd. There was no mistaking the expression of his fierce eyes. I recalled the warning Earl Bellamont had given me and I clinched my fists. At that moment Pierre was ducked for the third time. When he came up the magistrate put the usual question. “Have you had enough?” Pierre’s head dropped forward upon his breast. “Yes, yes,” shouted all. “He nods yes.” They unbound him and stood him on his feet. He fell full length upon the ground, unconscious and half drowned. At that moment the report of a cannon boomed over the city. “A ship, a ship!” shouted a hundred voices. This signal, fired from the Battery, was the way of announcing the arrival of a vessel in the port. The crowd forgot all about Pierre and his helpless condition. In two minutes the square was vacant save for three men: Pierre, the dominie, and myself. Pierre was not long in regaining consciousness. He was, however, too weak to walk alone. I lifted him in my arms and was about to carry him away when we met Lady Marmaduke in her chair. She bade the negro carriers set her down, and inquired what was the matter.