The minutes sped on. He had no means of gauging the time. It was just night, black impenetrable night. From down below came the murmur of all the bustle that was going on, the clang of arms, the measured footsteps which told of other alert human creatures who were waiting in excitement and tense expectancy for that dawn which still was far distant. The minutes sped on, on the leaden feet of time. How long the Lord of Stoutenburg had sat thus, silent and absorbed, he could not afterwards have said. Perhaps after all he had fallen asleep, overcome with fatigue and with the constant sleeplessness of the past few days. But anon he was wide awake, slightly shivering with the cold. The tallow candle was spluttering, almost dying out. With a steady hand the Lord of Stoutenburg snuffed the smouldering wick, the candle flickered up again. Then he rose and quietly walked across the room. He pulled open the door and loudly called for Jan. A few minutes later Jan was at the door, silent, sullen, obedient as usual. "My lord called?" he asked. "Yes," replied Stoutenburg, "what hour is it?" "Somewhere near six I should say, my lord. I heard the tower-clock at Ryswyk strike five some time ago." "How long is it before the dawn?" "Two hours, my lord." "Time to put up a gibbet, Jan? and to hang a man?" "Plenty of time for that, my lord," replied Jan quietly. "Then see to it, Jan, as speedily as you can. I feel that that man down below is our evil genius. While he lives Chance will be against us, of that I am as convinced as I am of the justice of our cause. If that man lives, Jan, the Stadtholder will escape us; I feel it in my bones: something must have told me this in the night--it is a premonition that comes from above." "Then the man must not live, my lord," said Jan coldly. "You recognize that too, Jan, do you not?" rejoined Stoutenburg eagerly. "I am compelled in this--I won't say against my will, but compelled by a higher, a supernatural power. You, too, believe in the supernatural, do you not, my faithful Jan?" "I believe, my lord, first and foremost in the justice of our cause. I hate the Stadtholder and would see him dead. Nothing in the world must place that great aim of ours in jeopardy." Stoutenburg drew a deep breath of satisfaction. "Then see to the gibbet, my good Jan," he said in a firm almost lusty voice, "have it erected on the further side of the molens so that the jongejuffrouw's eyes are not scandalized by the sight. When everything is ready come and let me know, and guard him well until then, Jan, guard him with your very life; I want to see him hang, remember that! Come and tell me when the gallows are ready and I'll go to see him hang ... I want to see him hang...." And Jan without another word salutes the Lord of Stoutenburg and then goes out. And thus it is that a quarter of an hour later the silence of the night is broken by loud and vigorous hammering. Jan sees to it all and a gibbet is not difficult to erect.