“Then,” says Guy, “listen to me.” And swearing Bodé Volcker very solemnly to secrecy, he tells him everything—everything connected with Alva’s statue, everything connected with Alva’s treasure, for he believes in no half confidences to this man, the risk of whose life he demands for his own selfish purpose. “Very well. What do you want me to do?” answers the Dutchman, his eyes lighting up as he hears of Alva’s buried treasure, the joy of pirate plunder coming into his merchant’s soul. “Should I not have a little more—interest, at least?” “Yes, interest—six hundred thousand, or, as your life is worth something—we’ll make it seven hundred and fifty thousand.” “Very well—to business! What do you want?” “First, for time presses, I want clearance papers procured as soon as possible from the town of Amsterdam for the Esperanza that I have still at Flushing harbor. Can you procure them?” “From Amsterdam? Impossible. But I can get you clearance and cargo from Stockholm.” “That will take two weeks—some nearer port!” “From Dunquerque? That’ll only take three or four days.” “From Dunquerque! All right,” answers Chester. “With the Esperanza I shall go, consigned to you, as Captain Andrea Blanco, once more right into the harbor of Antwerp and lay there till I get Alva’s treasures and Alva’s daughter or lose my life. It isn’t known in that town that you came here?” “No, I was very careful about that,” says Bodé Volcker. “They think I am in France buying Lyons’ silks. I’ll sail with you from Dunquerque myself. That’ll make everything seem very right—Lyons’ silks from a French port.” “And afterwards if it is discovered you’ll lose your life.” “That’s all right,” says the Dutchman. “Antwerp’s commerce is going to the dogs and I’m going to leave it with whatever money I can gather together. That seven hundred and fifty thousand crowns will help me.” So all the arrangements are made and every little detail settled, even to Mina’s remaining quietly in Delft, which is the best place for the poor girl at present. “She has no heart for anything,” mutters Bodé Volcker, then grinding his teeth, adds: “But I’ll have revenge upon the man who would have sent her to the lash and Spin-house, and because I am her father, robbed me of five hundred thousand crowns.” This very night Guy takes a purse of gold to John Haring, of Horn, and putting it into the man’s hands says: “This is your reward for the danger and trouble that have come to you for my sake!” “Donder en Bliksem!” ejaculates the Holland fisherman. “This is more money than I ever saw before. I don’t want anything for doing a kind act.” “You’ve a wife and children, take it for them and for your expenses returning to the North, where I wish you to go for me on a special errand.”