"STOP THIEF!" shrieked Ghysbrecht, and suddenly turned on his servant and collared him, and shook him with rage. "D'ye stand there, knave, and see your master robbed? Run! fly! A hundred crowns to him that finds it me again. No, no! 'tis in vain. Oh fool! fool! to leave that in the same room with him. But none ever found the secret spring before. None ever would but he. It was to be. It is to be. Lost! lost!" and his years and infirmity now gained the better of his short-lived frenzy, and he sank on the chest muttering "lost! lost!" "What is lost, master?" asked the servant kindly. "House and lands and good name," groaned Ghysbrecht, and wrung his hands feebly. "WHAT?" cried the servant. This emphatic word, and the tone of eager curiosity, struck on Ghysbrecht's ear, and revived his natural cunning. "I have lost the town records," stammered he, and he looked askant at the man like a fox caught near a hen-roost. "Oh, is that all?" "Is't not enough? What will the burghers say to me? What will the burgh do?" Then he suddenly burst out again, "A hundred crowns to him who shall recover them; all, mind, all that were in this box. If one be missing, I give nothing." "'Tis a bargain, master: the hundred crowns are in my pouch. See you not that where Gerard Eliassoen is, there are the pieces of sheepskin you rate so high?" "That is true; that is true; good Dierich: good faithful Dierich. All, mind, all, that were in the chest." "Master, I will take the constables to Gerard's house and seize him for the theft." "The theft? ay! good; very good. It is theft. I forgot that. So, as he is a thief now, we will put him in the dungeons below: where the toads are and the rats. Dierich, that man must never see daylight again. 'Tis his own fault; he must be prying. Quick, quick! ere he has time to talk, you know, time to talk." In less than half an hour Dierich Brower and four constables entered the hosier's house, and demanded young Gerard of the panic-stricken Catherine. "Alas! what has he done now?" cried she: "that boy will break my heart." "Nay, dame, but a trick of youth," said Dierich. "He hath but made off with certain skins of parchment, in a frolic doubtless; but the burgomaster is answerable to the burgh for their safe keeping, so he is in care about them: as for the youth, he will doubtless be quit for a reprimand." This smooth speech completely imposed on Catherine: but her daughter was more suspicious, and that suspicion was strengthened by the disproportionate anger and disappointment Dierich showed the moment he learned Gerard was not at home, had not been at home that night. "Come away then," said he roughly. "We are wasting time." He added, vehemently, "I'll find him if he is above ground."