"In a spirit of wanton mischief--for he is not so faithful to thee as thou wouldst wish--he has abducted a lady from this city, as thou well knowest, since thou didst lend him thy help in the committal of this crime. Thou seest," he added roughly, "that denials on thy part were worse than useless, since I know everything. The lady's father is an important magistrate in this city, he has moved every process of the law so that he may mete out an exemplary punishment to the blackguard who has dared to filch his daughter. Hanging will be the most merciful ending to thy lover's life, but Mynheer Beresteyn talks of the rack, of quartering and of the stake, and he is a man of boundless influence in the administration of the law." "Lord, have mercy upon us," once again murmured the wretched girl whose cheeks now looked grey and shrunken; her lips were white and quivering and her eyes with dilated pupils were fixed in horror on the harbinger of this terrible news. "He will have none on thy sweetheart, I'll warrant thee unless...." He paused significantly, measuring the effect of his words and of that dramatic pause upon the tense sensibilities of the girl. "Unless ... what?" came almost as a dying murmur from her parched throat. "Unless thou wilt lend a hand to save him." "I?" she exclaimed pathetically, "I would give my hand ... my tongue ... my sight ... my life to save him." "Come!" he said, "that's brave! but it will not be necessary to make quite so violent a sacrifice. I have great power too in this city and great influence over the bereaved father," he continued, lying unblushingly, "I know that if I can restore his daughter to him within the next four and twenty hours, I could prevail upon him to give up pursuit of the villain who abducted her, and to let him go free." But these words were not yet fully out of his mouth, before she had fallen on her knees before him, clasping her thin hands together and raising up to his hard face large, dark eyes that were brimful of tears. "Will you do that then, O my gracious lord," she pleaded. "Oh! God will reward you if you will do this." "How can I, thou crazy wench," he retorted, "how can I restore the damsel to her sorrowing father when I do not know where she is?" "But----" "It is from thee I want to hear where the lady is." "From me?" "Why yes! of course! Thou art in the confidence of thy lover, and knowest where he keeps the lady hidden. Tell me where she is, and I will pledge thee my word that thou and he will have nothing more to fear." "He is not my lover," she murmured dully, "nor am I in his confidence." She was still on her knees, but had fallen back on her heels, with arms hanging limp and helpless by her side. Hope so suddenly arisen had equally quickly died out of her heart, and her pinched face expressed in every line the despair and misery which had come in its wake.