Then aided by the tide, Guy’s boat drives up the Schelde, getting to Antwerp docks in time to give him a few hours’ sleep before daybreak. On the first rise of the sun he is up. Giving orders to Martin Corker, who is in charge, to hasten the landing of the cargo, which is mostly light silks prepared purposely for quick discharge, Chester receives astonishment. “We’ve got too few hands to do it very quick,” grumbles the boatswain. “How so? You’ve thirty!” “Thirty yesterday—but Bodé Volcker, whose directions you told me to follow, came down before sunset last night and took off twelve men with their duds and bedding to sleep in the town.” “All right,” answers the captain, but goes hurriedly up to the house on the Meir to find the reason of this. Here getting immediate word with Bodé Volcker, who is awake and in his counting room, Guy finds that the merchant has entered into this business of treasure-stealing with true mercantile rapacity. “I’ve got everything running now,” remarks Niklaas. “Leave the whole thing to me. You’d better not be known much in the matter. I have discovered easily enough from people about the docks that old Señora Sebastian, who is called ‘Dumb Devil’ on account of her infernal temper and lack of tongue to express it with, keeps a sailors’ lodging house for her dissipated livelihood, dividing her time between rum and sleep. Now the shipping of this port has fallen off greatly, owing to the accursed tenth penny tax.” “Yes,” answers Guy, “the docks are not half full of vessels. But what has this to do with our matter?” “This! As there are few vessels there are few sailors to board, and Mother Dumb Devil had only two last night, a Norwegian and a Frenchman. Now she has fourteen, twelve of your men, who occupy the balance of the house and have gone in there with their duds and bedding, each man of them carrying a large bed-tick filled with straw.” “What is your plan?” “This: we get the Norwegian and the Frenchman drunk—dead drunk; ship ’em drunk on a vessel of mine, and to-morrow morning they wake up upon the open ocean outside the Schelde bound for the other end of the world. Then we get Mother Dumb Devil drunk and insensible; fill up the two now vacant berths in the house with two more of your sailors——you have very careful men?” “Yes. They know their lives depend upon their caution.” “Then there is room for no more boarders and the house is our own for a few hours, in which we make our examination, and if all is right get the treasure of Alva; your sailors bringing it out each day, as their bedding——only the bed-ticks will be filled with doubloons instead of straw—next a new lot of your men with fresh bedding.” “This is as good a plan,” answers Guy, considering, “as you could have hit upon. There is but one serious danger. Is the house watched by some of Alva’s agents?”