“Good lack! Little Pierre ducked for being drunk! You naughty fellow. How often have I told you not to do that or I should never speak you well again to sweet Annetje Dorn?” She paused; her face clouded and grew hard and bitter. I heard her mutter the name of the patroon. “Here, put him in my chair,” she said at last. “I will attend to him.” She got in herself after he was comfortably stowed away, and then left us alone upon the Slip. “Just her way,” said the dominie. “She’ll take care of him and nurse him and feed him up as if he were her own child. She is good to every one, friend or slave, it makes no matter which.” I accompanied the dominie as far as the door of his house, where I left him in order to continue my way to the Ferry-House. It was in this quiet ordinary that the governor had advised me to seek temporary lodgings. I reached the place without difficulty and was surprised to find that it was the very house before which Lady Marmaduke had halted her coach when I heard her speak to the people and bid them to stand fast by the Earl of Bellamont. I went in and made the necessary arrangements to stay there that night, and then sat down to eat my dinner and to think over the events of the day. By the time I was ready to rise from the table the hand of the clock was close upon the stroke of two. This was the time set for Bromm’s proclamation concerning my sister. I betook myself to the square before the Stadt Huys, where I walked up and down in momentary expectation of the crier. The public excitement of the morning was somewhat abated; but a fair crowd had gathered by the time Bromm appeared, marching behind two drummers, who beat a sober rap-tap suited to the aged man’s deliberate step. Bromm mounted the platform near the public scaffold and began to read his proclamation. It was short, simply requesting in the name of the governor any information concerning the whereabouts of Ruth Le Bourse. At the first reading no one came forward to volunteer any information. The drums beat again and Bromm read the proclamation a second time. Just as he finished, some one touched my arm from behind. It was Van Volkenberg at my elbow for the second time that day. He smiled as before, the same cutting smile of contempt. He spoke but a word or two before he vanished in the cover of the crowd; but he had said enough to rouse my anger. “Good luck, Monsieur Le Bourse; but, as I said before, we shall meet again. Beware of the Red Band.”