"And there is another danger too, friend, greater perhaps than any other," continued Stoutenburg vehemently. "Good G--d, Stoutenburg, what do you mean?" "That cursed foreign adventurer----" "What about him?" "Have you then never thought of him as being amenable to a bribe from Gilda." "In Heaven's name, man, do not think of such awful eventualities!" "But we must think of them, my good Beresteyn. Events are shaping themselves differently to what we expected. We must make preparations for our safety accordingly, and above all realise the fact that Gilda will move heaven and earth to thwart us in our plans." "But she can do nothing," persisted Beresteyn sullenly, "without betraying me. In Haarlem it was different. She might have spoken to my father of what she knew, but she would not do so to a stranger, knowing that with one word she can send me first and all of you afterwards to the scaffold." Stoutenburg with an exclamation of angry impatience brought his clenched fist crashing down upon the table. "Are you a child, Beresteyn," he cried hotly, "or are you wilfully blind to your danger and to mine? I tell you that Gilda will never allow me to kill the Prince of Orange without raising a finger to save him." "But what can I do?" "Send for Gilda at once, to-night," urged Stoutenburg, "convey her under escort hither ... in all deference ... in all honour ... she would be here under her brother's care." "A woman in this place at such a moment," cried Beresteyn; "you are mad, Stoutenburg." "I shall go mad if she is not here," rejoined the other more calmly, "the fear has entered into my soul, Nicolaes, that Gilda will yet betray us at the eleventh hour. That fear is an obsession ... call it premonition if you will, but it unmans me, friend." Beresteyn was silent now. He drew his cloak closer round his shoulders, for suddenly he felt a chill which seemed to have crept into his bones. "But it is unpractical, man," he persisted with a kind of sullen despair. "Gilda and another woman here ... to-morrow ... when not half a league away...." "Justice will be meted out to a tyrant and an assassin," broke in Stoutenburg quietly. "Gilda is not a woman as other women are, though in her soul now she may be shrinking at the thought of this summary justice, she will be strong and brave when the hour comes. In any case," he added roughly, "we can keep her closely guarded, and in the miller's hut, with the miller and his wife to look after her, she will be as safe and as comfortable as circumstances will allow. We should have her then under our own eyes and know that she cannot betray us."