“There is a house as described and located by Paciotto, a tumble-down, ramshackle old affair, in by no means a good neighborhood. It is kept by an old deaf and dumb Spanish woman who goes under the name of Señora Sebastian, but is commonly known by the sailors she takes as boarders (this house being near the docks) as ‘Mother Dumb Devil,’ referring probably to her temper.” “That’s the place. I’ll put some of my men to lodge there at once,” says Guy. “Not yet, not until we get the keys. Use your men in discharging your vessel as rapidly as possible. Key number one I have already ordered made from its draft. Number three I will take to-morrow to Brussels, leaving number two en route at Malines. Get your cargo out of your vessel as fast as you can.” “How long will you be in Brussels?” “Until the key is made, probably five days,” replies Oliver. “So long? You know speed is vital. I shall have my ship unloaded by that time.” “It can’t be done sooner. The locksmith says it will take him at least four days to finish the one ordered here. Consequently it must be five days before I return from Brussels with the keys. Besides,” says the painter, “I have had a carrier pigeon from Louis of Nassau to-day, which makes it necessary that I go to the capital to obtain a little information. Every town save Amsterdam is up in Holland, and—now an attack in the rear. I’ve had word they are ready to rise. It would be a shame that all the Netherlands were up in arms and Mons, my native place, still fly the flag of Alva.” “Then you think Antwerp will rise?” “No, neither Antwerp nor Brussels, their Spanish garrisons are too strong, but they are weakening them day by day. By the by, I saw our little friend De Busaco march out this afternoon with his company for the north.” “Then some day Antwerp may have a chance.” “Pish! Antwerp thinks of nothing but trade. Trade destroys patriotism. All the burghers want is to be let alone with their commerce. But take my word for it, this place will suffer more than any other town in the Netherlands. Antwerp will be the man on the fence, and the man on the fence is always shot at from both sides. But I must go to Bodé Volcker’s.” “Ah! The fair Wilhelmina!” laughs Guy. “I would go with you, but the debonnaire officer Guido Amati appearing as Andrea Blanco, captain of trading vessel, would make old Niklaas open his eyes. But you are anxious to visit him. So good night and—good bye.” “Yes, I must have word with Mina. God knows what may happen to me in Brussels.” Then the painter adds suddenly: “But I must also take care of you. Promise me, Guido,” his tone is very anxious, “if you cannot sleep here, that you will at least come every night and every morning and see if carrier pigeon has brought message from me. I shall take six birds with me. You know how the little bell rings as they enter the cote. They may be of infinite importance to your safety—to your life, for God knows when Alva’s suspicion may fall upon me.”