“Then give me your hand on the hundred guilders, my hearty,” replies Chester, knowing that to refuse to smuggle would simply be to acknowledge himself not up to mark as merchant captain. “Very well, we can consider the matter arranged,” whispers Olins, gripping Guy’s outstretched fingers, and goes on shore. Alone by himself, Chester laughs: “I think I’ll see what I’m smuggling,” and being a man of action, quickly has some of the false floor of his cabin up, and getting down among the cases opens one. After examining its contents and refastening its cover very securely, the Englishman comes up again whistling softly, but with a great respect for Mr. Jan Olins in his heart. Then he takes his way up to Oliver’s studio, and getting in unnoticed, for the painter has left him his keys, draws the curtain away from Antony’s altar piece and gazes upon the fair face that he longs to see. But even as he looks upon the beautiful eyes of Madonna Hermoine, the sound of wings above reminds him of his errand. He goes hastily up, and examining the dove cote, is astounded to see all six pigeons in it and no letter upon any of them. Coming away he ponders upon this matter very earnestly, finally concluding that by some accident the birds must have escaped from confinement and returned to their home. Then Guy goes on board his ship and that night by the aid of Corker and some of his crew, under the personal direction of Mr. Jan Olins, conveys the twelve cases of goods upon which no duty is paid, very quietly and secretly to a large warehouse some distance nearer the main quay of the city. In this they are entirely unmolested, but in leaving the warehouse, chancing to look up, Chester sees by the lantern Olins carries to guide their path, the name of Niklaas Bodé Volcker in large letters over the archway, and is further impressed by observing that gentleman’s young son, the snickering Jakob, who has been apparently waiting for the goods, have word of mouth with Burgher Jan Olins. “Aha!” thinks the Englishman. “If I wanted a hold upon Bodé Volcker I’ve got one, though I don’t see how he could help me at present.” Then they return cautiously to the Esperanza unnoticed and unmolested, though the guard boats are doing their duty outside the line of shipping, which is very dense, and in the shadow of which their boat glides very quietly, Olins himself going back with them and remaining on board the vessel, as he cannot enter the town until after daybreak. This he does, leaving Chester asleep in his bunk, though somewhat disturbed in his early morning nap by the noise of his men holystoning and washing down the decks. Five minutes after Sir Guy Chester wakes up to discover that he has need of somebody’s aid in this city of Antwerp, immediate, imperative, to save his life. “There’s a boy come on board, Captain. He says he’s got a letter to you particular,” whispers his boatswain in his ear, “so I made bold to wake you up.” “Humph!”