“What?” gasps Guy, though he gives orders to the men to cast off and get under way. This they do in a flash and Martin Corker takes the helm. As they sail down the Schelde Guy goes into the cabin and whispers to the merchant, who is half fainting: “What’s the matter, what’s frightened you so?” “My God, my God! the hand moved!” “What hand?” “THE HAND ON ALVA’S STATUE!” “Great heavens!—When?” “When you went into the vault at twelve o’clock to-day, the right hand of the statue of Alva moved. They’ll be at the house of the woman Sebastian by this time. The statue guarded Alva’s treasure. God help us if they get messenger to Lillo to stop vessels before we get down! The garrison are talking about it as if it were supernatural. They say it predicts the fall of Haarlem; but I know it predicts that people have gone into Alva’s treasure house. That’s what the infernal statue was put there for,” cries Bodé Volcker. But the last of this speech is made to an empty cabin, for Chester is on deck and is putting all sail upon the Esperanza. Seeing that every rag draws and the tide being with them, the boat flies down the river at such a speed that he hardly thinks he will be overtaken, and prays that the custom house officers and guard boat at the fort do their business quickly. These Spanish officials, hailing them at Lillo, Guy gets them on board and makes the officer in charge so happy by hospitality and a roll of doubloons pressed into his ready hand—suggesting haste on account of the tide and wind, that his ship’s business is very urgent—that they are soon allowed to pass. With a sigh of relief Chester, still keeping all sail up, drives down the Schelde, and at five o’clock in the evening they are alongside the Dover Lass in Krom Vliet, and are discharging the treasure into the armed vessel. At seven the transfer has been completed; for Chester has now one hundred and twenty-five men working as seamen always work in sight of prize money. This done, Guy speaks to Dalton. “Have you obtained as I directed, a chaplain of the Catholic Church from Zeeland?” “Yes, and it was the devil’s own job,” says that blunt officer. “I got about the only one the Dutch had left alive on the islands. There was another, but Michael Krok had cut off his ears, and I didn’t know whether he could splice a legal knot,” for Guy has been compelled to make confidant of his first officer in this business. “Ask him to step here,” Chester says. And the priest being brought to him, the captain remarks: “You have been kindly treated, holy father?” “With every care. Your fare is so bounteous, I would it had not been a fast day. It is almost continual starvation for me now. The Dutch have dispersed my flock, both of parishioners and sheep.” “You know the reason that I sent for you?”