Maria found the two serving men in the crowd, and transmitted to them her mistress's orders. The cathedral had been very full for the service, and the worshippers took a long time filing out; they lingered about in the aisles, exchanging bits of city gossip and wishing one another a happy New Year. The verger had much ado to drive the goodly people out of the edifice, no sooner had he persuaded one group of chatterers to continue their conversation on the Grootemarkt outside, than another batch seemed to loom out of the shadows, equally determined to conclude its gossip here in the warmth, before sallying forth once more into the foggy midnight air. "I must close the cathedral for the night," the worthy man repeated piteously, "do you think that I don't want to get home and eat my watch-night supper at a reasonable hour. Move on there, my masters, move out please! My orders are to have the church closed before one o'clock." He came on a group of men who sat together in the shadow of a heavy pillar close behind the pulpit. "Now then, mynheers," he said, "'tis closing time." But those that were there made no sign to obey. "All right, Perk," said one of them in a whisper, "we are not going just yet." "Aye, but ye are," retorted the verger gruffly, for he was cross now and wanting his supper, "what should I allow ye to stay for?" "For the memory of Jan!" was the whispered response. The verger's manner changed in an instant, the few words evidently bore some portentous meaning of which he held the key--and I doubt not but that the key was made of silver. "All right, mynheers," he said softly, "the church will be clear in a few minutes now." "Go round, Perk," said he who had first spoken, "and let us know when all is safe." The verger touched his forelock and silently departed. Those that were there in the shadow by the great pillar remained in silence awaiting his return. The congregation was really dispersing now, the patter of leather shoes on the flagstones of the floor became gradually more faint; then it died out altogether. That portion of the Groote Kerk where is situated the magnificent carved pulpit was already quite dark and wholly deserted save for that group of silent, waiting figures that looked like shadows within the shadows. Anon the verger returned. He had only been absent a few minutes. "Quite safe now, mynheers," he said, "the last of them has just gone through the main door. I have locked all the doors save the West. If you want anything you will find me there. I can leave this one light for you, the others I must put out." "Put them out, Perk, by all means," was the ready response. "We can find our way about in the dark." The verger left them undisturbed; his shuffling steps were heard gliding along the flagstones until their murmur died away in the vastness of the sacred edifice. The group of men who sat behind the pulpit against the heavy pillar, now drew their rush chairs closer to one another.